


Broken Trust

by missblueeyes63



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Alt 11. Presumed Dead, Angst, Brotherhood, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No 11. Psych 101, No 12. I Think I’ve Broken Something, No 17. I Did Not See That Coming, No 29. I Think I Need A Doctor, No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY, No 31. Today’s Special: Torture, Team as Family, Whump Clay, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27019075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missblueeyes63/pseuds/missblueeyes63
Summary: This is a bit AU but maintains elements of Vic's character and Clay's attitude towards him. Deviates from the show's sequence of events, and paints Vic without any redeeming qualities.A multi-chapter emotional and physical whump-fest coming up. I tried to write a one chapter story, but my evil muse latched on to a concept, and it's snowballing into several chapters.
Comments: 97
Kudos: 297





	1. I Did Not See That Coming

**Author's Note:**

> When Vic was first introduced, I took an instant dislike to him … the whole conversation with Ray while moving the door struck me wrong, and my first impression of Vic turned out to be right.

_**Bravo Cage** _

"I DON'T GIVE A RAT'S ASS WHAT YOU THINK." Jason continued to hurl words at Spenser as he pinned him against the wire cage—mostly with his glare, but the hard shove a moment ago is what put the cocky blond in the position. "I'm sick of your petty bullshit and your piss-poor attitude. Vic is your teammate, and it's about damn time you started acting like it!"

By force of will, Clay held his tongue as his blue eyes glowered at his Master Chief.

"As long as I'm your team lead, you follow my orders and keep your childish tantrums about who I SELECT as a member of Bravo to yourself." Jason poked Clay's chest with each of his next words to emphasize them. "This. Is. Your. Last. Warning. Got. It?"

"Copy," Clay ground out, seething inside. He still couldn't believe Hayes chose Vic over his buddy Yoder. Though he couldn't put his finger on exactly why, Vic rubbed him the wrong way, and left him with an impression of a snake in the grass. Unfortunately, no one else shared his opinion. They bought Vic's _gee-whiz ah shucks_ façade hook, line, and sinker—which in Clay's book made him seriously question the perceptions of his teammates.

Noting the barely banked defiance and anger in Spenser's expression, Jason shoved Clay's chest again, harder than he intended, causing the kid's back to slam into the pole on the cage's entrance. He stepped back before he let loose physically again, but he didn't put the same governor on his words. "This shit doesn't fly on my team. IT'S MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY! Go home. When you return on Monday, your attitude better be fixed, or you'll be the one looking for a new team, not Vic."

Grabbing his backpack, Clay exited the room as the rest of the team pretended to be busy with something, not making eye contact, and not a damned one of them supported him against Jason. He wanted to slam the door, but he didn't want to push his luck. _I did not see that coming. I can't believe Jason would pick Vic over me and none of the guys call him out on the comment. Haven't I proven myself? Vic's been with us only a month, and his performance is questionable at best. No one sees who Vic really is—except me._

When the door closed, Jason ran a hand around to the back of his neck and squeezed. He took several breaths before turning to face his team—unsure what reception he would get for those last words. He was so pissed off and exhausted, he spoke without thinking.

Vic maintained his humble, somewhat downcast expression, though he was laughing inside at the ass-chewing Spenser received. "I'm sorry to be the cause of dissension … not what I wanted … just want to be a team player is all."

"Well, Vicky Spears, I say we need to go grab a beer. I'll introduce you to the Champagne room tonight." Sonny tugged his hat on, satisfied Jason put a kibosh on Clay's sulky attitude. He'd had all he could take of the Poster Boy's middle child peevishness. Though all for giving the new guy a ration of shit, Sonny believed Clay went too far with his unwillingness to work with Vic, and his lack of acceptance of a fellow brother.

Of all people, Sonny thought Clay would be willing to give the rookie a shot before judging him—especially with all the crap he took for being Ash Spenser's son. It was time to give the kid a taste of his own medicine and turn a cold shoulder to him until Clay pulled his head out of his ass.

Smiling, Vic nodded. "Sounds like fun."

Ray sighed after Sonny and Vic ambled out, Sonny going off on a tangent about one of his favorite dancers. He glanced at Brock and Trent, who remained silent through the whole affair and were now gathering their stuff for a much-needed three-day weekend. Ray waited until they left before he said, "It had to be said, Jace. Spenser is in the wrong about Vic. Hopefully, he will come back on Monday with a fresh attitude and give the guy a fair shake."

Jason dropped to his camp chair in his cage and exhaled heavily. "Not all of it should've been said."

"What? The part about keeping Vic instead of Clay?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sure Clay didn't put any stock into that … you were rightfully blowing off steam." Ray grabbed his pack and slung it over one shoulder. "Wanna join us for dinner?"

"No." Jason glanced at Ray. "Thanks, but I'm gonna go home and drop into bed. We've had a hell of a week and the tension between Clay and Vic is the icing on top of my crap cake."

Ray chuckled. "Yeah, Captain Lindell has been a royal pain in our asses this week. If you change your mind, give me a call, and if not, see ya Monday."

Jason only nodded, too weary to even move. This week had been one for the record books. He still couldn't believe how Lindell rode him about his team's performance. Added to that, Clay ticked him off on a daily basis with insolence—questioning so many things. Clay's behavior threw him for a loop.

Realizing he was partly to blame for Clay's arrogance, Jason sighed. Over the past few years, he put up with a lot of crap from the kid … solely because Spenser reminded him of a younger version of himself—but with other talents which would lead Bravo into the future. However, if Clay couldn't or wouldn't accept his choice for the team … they would be at loggerheads.

Forcing himself to rise, wanting nothing more than to fall into his bed and sleep, Jason's eyes inexplicably went back to Clay's cage. He hoped Ray was right and Clay wouldn't put too much stock into his heated words … the blond kid was the best pipehitter to come out of Green Team since he went through. He chuckled … perhaps he had a bit too much arrogance too. Picking up his bag, Jason strode out of their equipment cage, hoping Monday brought a return to the team dynamics that made Bravo the best team.

* * *

_**Clay's Apartment** _

Lying on his bed, Clay adjusted the ice pack on his shoulder. After showering and popping a few ibuprofens he grabbed one of his packs from the freezer and headed into his room without bothering to eat or even call Rebecca. His mind was a whirl of many different things, but mostly he focused on the broken trust.

Team was family … he'd come to trust Jason, Ray, Sonny, Trent, and Brock to always have his back. Not an easy thing for him to do given his upbringing. A mother who wanted her drugs more than her kid. Grandparents more interested in helping other people's children … though they did give him a home and feed him for many years. It was the love that was lacking … probably why his own mother didn't know how to act like a mom and was selfish. Then there was his father.

The shadow of Ash Spenser caused him nothing but problems from the day he entered BUD/s. And even after being drafted to Bravo, when his dad came around wanting to 'make up for the past', it turned out to be a ruse to ply him for information for another book. Although he never supplied Ash an ounce of info, in the televised interview Ash sure made it sound as if it came from him, and many on the base assumed it was him too—giving him glares as if to say, _like father, like son_. Yeah, trust broken … again.

Stella … she left him high and dry … twice … and then came back thinking she might get a third chance to wrench his heart. He was done with her. And now Rebecca … the longer he was in a relationship with her, the more he felt like he had to change to make her happy. She pulled him to all those politico parties and kept insinuating he should want more than being one hell of a SEAL … as if he wasn't good enough for her until he wore a suit and those damned-expensive and uncomfortable shoes she sent him.

The need to pee caused him to sit up, swinging his legs off the bed. His gaze landed on his scared leg … he worked so damned hard to return to Bravo after Manila. He almost went crazy with his idle time and worrying he wouldn't ever reach the point of passing the physical requirements to rejoin his brothers.

And now, they cast him aside like yesterday's trash … or at least his opinion. In the field, his intuition and gut saved every damned one of them at least once. Hell, he threw himself at Jason to cover him when he noticed Cerb sitting right before the HVT clacked off the vest. And now that he thought back on that incident … everyone checked on Jason … no one checked him, though he'd been on top of Jason and therefore more likely to receive the brunt of the blast.

Pushing to his feet, Clay dropped the ice pack on the table and shuffled into the bathroom. After taking care of business, he stood before his sink to wash his hands and stared at his shirtless reflection. The purplish, black bruising covering his upper left chest, over his shoulder, and onto his back was courtesy of Vic.

Sure, they trained hard, and Clay never complained, but they also drew the line in doing actual damage to one another. However, the sparring session with Vic three days ago had been brutal. The new guy wanted to show his mettle, so came at him with full power, and Clay needed to set him down a peg, so Vic understood he still had things to learn—like Sonny had done with him. When Lindell spoke from the catwalk above, drawing everyone's attention upward, Vic didn't halt as he should've, and Clay's shoulder got rammed into a door jamb.

But it wasn't Vic who got the ass-chewing and teasing. Sonny had been relentless in his jokes about dropping his guard—to the point Clay wanted to slam a fist into the Texan's mouth to shut him up. Jason had reamed him about going too hard on the new guy, that he should know better, and it resulted in Vic trying to get him back.

Trent chimed in on the possibility of injuring Vic with his actions, completely discounting the fact Vic slammed him into the door when his attention was on Lindell. Ray admonished him for not being a mentor and told him to quit his pouting just because he was not the new toy on the shelf. The only one not to say anything was Brock—but then he was always quiet—and he didn't come to his defense.

So … whether smart or not … Clay decided to keep this injury to himself—not that they would care given everything in the past month. He managed not to have to remove his shirt in front of his teammates for the past three days. If he was lucky, he would continue the pattern and not incur a lecture from Jason or Trent … because somehow, someway they would turn this into his fault, just like all the incidents with Vic this month.

The beeping of his phone on the nightstand pulled his attention away from his bruised and aching shoulder. Striding to his bedroom, Clay groaned when he read the text. "Damn. Could've used the three days." Clay turned to his dresser, pulled the drawer open, and selected one of his tactical shirts.

Clay hissed as he lifted his arm and slipped it into the sleeve. After dressing as fast as possible, Clay halted in his bathroom and shook out more pills—he would need them to conceal his injury from the team. For one brief second, he considered telling Jason and Blackburn about the bum shoulder, but he didn't trust Vic.

No matter how poorly his brothers treated him lately, Clay didn't trust Vic to cover their six, and he wouldn't risk their lives. He would suck up his pain, do his duty, and keep a close watch on Vic until he could prove something was off with the guy.


	2. What's A Master Chief Gotta Do to Get Some Sleep Around Here?

**_Bravo Plane_ **

Clay exited the head, having gone there for the sole purpose of taking a couple more ibuprofens without being observed—not that anyone was giving him any warm fuzzies or paying him any attention, but it would be better not to draw attention to his need for painkillers. All he wanted to do now was hang his hammock, grab some shut-eye during the flight, and let the meds do their work.

He noted everyone except Vic and Jason congregated at the back, playing poker. No one bothered to ask if he wanted to join, which he didn't, but still, whoever started the game usually made the offer to everyone. Grabbing his hammock, Clay turned his back to where Vic sat reading a book, and Jason nearby, his eyes on the laptop—likely rereading the briefing and studying the building layout.

Letting the fabric pool on the floor, Clay began to tie one end to the side of the aircraft. He suppressed a groan when his arm protested lifting higher than his shoulder. His mind elsewhere, okay, well, having a little pity party for himself, Clay didn't hear Vic approaching as he bent over to retrieve the other end of the hammock. The collision with his aching shoulder as he straightened, caused Clay to hiss in pain.

Vic affected a surprised mien as he deliberately bumped into Clay, and spilled his beverage all over Clay's hammock. He also stumbled backward and barked, "Dude, what's your problem with me?"

"You're the one who rammed into me?" Clay pivoted to face Vic, but his eyes landed on Jason first, noting the scowl. Shifting his gaze to Vic, he glimpsed the tail-end of a smirk which told him Vic's action had been premeditated. Unfortunately, Vic's back was to the rest of the guys, so they couldn't view the dipwad's fleeting satisfied expression—one now morphing into a sneer.

"Rammed?" Vic snorted. "Look, dude, I'm all for being a team guy, but I'm not gonna let you try to lay this one on me too. Jason told you this petty crap needs to stop. I'm just here to do a job, you don't have to like me … just work with me."

The guys halted their game and peered at the two, watching to see how Clay handled himself and whether he took Jason's words to heart.

Sonny noted Clay's hooded eyes—his pissed-off look and wondered if he might have to separate them.

Though Clay wanted to lambast Vic for running into him and purposefully dumping his soda all over the hammock, he recognized Vic appeared to be gaining confidence in the others backing him. If so, Vic's actions would become more overt, which might open the eyes of his teammates. Tamping down on his rage, aware time would reveal the snake, Clay blew out a breath.

Not stupid, Clay could play Vic's game—and win. He schooled his expression as he responded calmly, yet loud enough for his brothers to overhear. "Just watch where you're going next time." Turning away from Vic, to gather his now soaking wet hammock from the floor, he caught Jason's eye. Their gazes held a moment before Jason returned his focus to the laptop. Although unsure of Jason's thoughts, Clay was glad he didn't receive another tirade from him—score one point for him.

Disappointed Clay didn't behave as he expected, hoping for him to lash out at him, so he could win more brownie points with Ray and the others, Vic said in a low voice that didn't carry beyond the two of them, "Nothing special about you. Jason is aware because he would rather keep me and toss you to the curb." Moving past Clay, Vic went to the cooler to grab another soda.

Dropping the sticky, wet fabric in a heap underneath the webbed seating, Clay fought the desire to set Vic on his ass. But patience won out … he was a sniper and well versed in waiting for the right moment to strike. Not looking forward to the next fourteen hours sleeping upright, or laying across the narrow seats, Clay headed up the stairs to sack out on the metal flooring—the least uncomfortable option given his sore shoulder.

Jason rubbed the back of his neck—frustrated and unsure of how to handle the animosity between Clay and Vic. He did give Clay props for de-escalating the situation but wished he'd been watching to determine who bumped into whom. Right now, it was he said versus he said, which increased Jason's frustration.

When Vic sat beside him, Jason waited for the rookie to speak.

"What did I ever do to him?"

Jason didn't bother answering the rhetorical question.

"Never been on a team where …" Vic trailed off and sighed for dramatic effect. "Thought Bravo would become the family I always wanted, but Clay doesn't like me for some reason I can't figure out. He always is blaming me for his screw-ups … like just now."

Half-listening to Vic as he started telling him about his sad childhood and how becoming a SEAL was the best thing in his life because of the brotherhood, Jason's mind wandered. He began to wonder what it was that Clay didn't like about the new guy. In the past, Jason relied on Clay's insights and quick assessments of people and situations—a hell of a lot faster than he had with any other rookie.

Most likely because there was a bit of a kindred spirit between him and the kid. Although Ray believed he disliked Clay from the beginning, it was only him peering at a younger version of himself—and uncertain he was the right person to finish molding the kid into a leader. Jason understood all too well he was not an Adam Seaver. He would never possess the patience Adam had for molding Greenies into badass DEVGRU leaders. The job Adam had done with Clay was superb—an almost finished form, which only needed a little tweaking, and time in the kiln to harden.

When he assessed Vic, truthfully, the guy fell short of the measure but Jason remained unsure exactly where or why. Perhaps it was because Vic didn't have the opportunity to be trained by Adam. Jason still harbored guilt over Adam's death—a damned shame and huge loss to their ranks. Although, it could simply be that Vic was more like Ray and less like him.

That was the reason he went with Ray's suggestion. He had almost pulled the trigger on picking Yoder, but Ray's assertion that in the future as Clay took over the reins as ninja team leader he would need a more reserved 2IC made sense. The combination of him and Ray brought Bravo to the level they operated at now. Even Adam had remarked on how they complemented one another.

But one thing Jason now worried about is that nobody forced Ray and him together. They clicked from the moment Ray joined Bravo—actually before when Bravo ran a few missions with Team 3. Their natural affinity and friendship set the foundation which allowed them to grow into the strong leadership team they were today.

Jason's attention returned to Lopez as the new guy stood.

"Think I'll turn in. Thanks for listening."

So lost in his own thoughts, Jason couldn't recall most of what Vic said, but replied, "Yeah, anytime."

Maintaining his somber expression, close to a hang-dog one, Vic sought to further solidify his position in the eyes of Jason. "Team cohesion is important, so I'll do my best to smooth things over with Clay."

Jason blinked gritty eyes and only responded with a nod before Vic wandered off. He blew out a breath, more exhausted than he had been in the cages five hours ago. The mission that unexpectedly landed in their lap would not be an easy one with the team firing on all cylinders, add in two sticky valves, and shit could go downhill fast. Reaching for his coffee, needing to review his assault plan again, not liking his options, Jason halted again when Ray sat beside him.

"Jace, you ought to grab some sleep."

"Not happy with our plan."

"What about it troubles you?" Ray's gaze fixated on the laptop's screen. The image of the target complex showing.

"Breaking into teams of four still allows one egress to be uncovered, and we won't have cover from above if reinforcements arrive before we grab the HVT and exfil."

Ray nodded he noted the rest of the team hanging their hammocks, and his eyes sought out Clay on the upper deck. He noted the kid didn't appear comfortable as he adjusted the pack under his head. In the briefing, Ray fully expected Clay to chime in with his inputs—the kid had an uncanny tactical ability—he did see the matrix as Adam once said. But Clay remained mute during the entire meeting, not offering a single option as they discussed strategies.

The sulky behavior turned Ray off—and it didn't suit Clay. But there it was for one and all to view. Ray chalked it up to Clay still stinging from Jason's earlier rebuke in the cages. The situation between Spenser and Lopez needed to be put to bed sooner rather than later.

A chuckle emitted as an idea for both problems popped into his head. It worked well on him when he was a kid. "Got a possible solution to both issues."

"Both?" Jason turned to Ray as he sipped his lukewarm coffee.

"The sibling squabbling and overwatch." Ray pointed to a building near the target one. "What if we put a sniper and spotter here, and use two-man teams instead of four. You and Sonny take the front while Trent and I go south, and Full Metal and Brock cover the north. Send Clay high with Vic. Make them work together—might be the best way to solve Clay's attitude problem. The kid is a consummate professional in the field, and it would give him a chance to see Vic in action, rather than just practice."

"You're suggesting a bonding moment during a mission." Jason chuckled.

"Hey, it works. Once when my cousin Jerry visited for two weeks, my mother tied our wrists together with about twelve inches of rope between us for three full days when we couldn't stop bickering. We had to learn how to work together. Hell, we couldn't even take a piss without the other one there. Worked wonders, and we developed a strong bond."

Jason considered Ray's strategy as he studied the image on the monitor. It did provide a better entry, and overwatch would be useful given the weather report indicated heavy cloud cover that would impede ISR's ability to be their eyes in the sky. His gaze moved upward to where Clay lay. "Might be a way to make amends for my careless words earlier—show him I still have faith in him."

Ray nodded. "It would. I talked to Naima after dinner and she reminded me of the trouble we had with Jameelah acting out after RJ was born. She suggested Clay's trying to find his place now that he's not the new wonder boy. Though she also provided me a bit of food for thought."

When Ray didn't continue, Jason refocused on Ray as he yawned. "What?"

Letting out a heavy exhale, Ray shared, "Something she noticed at the barbeque when Vic joined. If you recall, Rebecca came, and well, a few of the things Clay's girlfriend said took her aback. Naima got the sense Rebecca is trying to remold Clay into something else. Rebecca dropped a couple of clankers. Things like, when Clay is in a position of power, things will change for SEALS, talking about introducing Clay to various senators, and referring to herself and Clay as the next John and Jackie."

Jason's brows rose.

"Yeah, my reaction too. Anyway, I'm ready to give the kid a little more slack than I was earlier. He's been through the wringer ever since Manila. Lots of changes in his life. He barely makes it back to the team, and then we bring in another guy. Perhaps Clay believes we don't think he can cut it anymore, and he's in a pissing contest to prove us wrong … or Rebecca's got him distracted and questioning his place in the world and he is lashing out at the easiest target." Ray rose and stifled a yawn. "Gonna rack out. You should too."

"Yeah, I will in a bit. Gonna run through the plan a few more times with the changes you suggested."

Four hours later, still not happy with the entire plan, Jason finally closed the computer and set it on the seat beside him. He rose and headed for the stairs intending to make a quick stop at the head before turning in. At the top, he halted and peered at Clay as Ray's words came to mind. _Yeah, maybe Clay needs a little more reassurance._

Images of the kid lying bleeding in the Manila street assaulted him. Had anyone asked him that night if Clay would make it back to them, Jason would've said no—the injuries had been so severe. The ride in the ambulance had been brutal on an emotional level. Clay's dazed eyes kept searching for his, almost begging for reassurance he was gonna live.

Then the doctors shipped the kid back to the States, and Shaw kept them deployed. Well, he understood that part, they were SEALS, and duty came first. But he hated not being there for Clay for months, and the kid had to go through everything alone. Well, not alone, Swanny helped out big time—but then the kid just had to be the one to find Swanny in his truck, and dealt with the suicide all on his own too.

And even after Clay defied the odds and returned, the meat grinder chewed him up again when Ambassador Marsden died. Jason realized he'd been too wrapped up in his own head lately to take an honest look at the rest of his men—Clay especially. He needed to make some changes in the way he dealt with the kid if he didn't want to drive him away. He needed to mentor Clay as Adam had him.

Jason decided to focus on the things he needed to fix after this mission completed. He must be laser-focused on their objective, and in order to do that, he required rest. Shuffling off to the head, he longed for his bed at home and wished Lindell hadn't spun them up for this mission. _What's a master chief gotta do to get some sleep around here?_

After Jason descended the stairs several minutes later, Clay opened his eyes. Unable to find a comfortable position on the hard surface, he considered going down and hanging his soaked hammock. Though the thought of his shirt ending up wet and sticky halted his deliberation. Sugar would attract flies or ants, so it would require him to change his shirt before the mission. He had no desire to reveal his bruising to Jason and deal with another dress down so soon after the last.

Shifting again, Clay tried to fall asleep, but his brain wouldn't shut off. As much as he wanted to speak up during the briefing, he couldn't or they would accuse him of picking on Vic again. And he might be benched for this mission—something he couldn't allow to happen. Although he saw holes in Jason's plans, the thing that worried him most was he'd been assigned to a different team than Vic. As such, he couldn't protect his brothers' sixes. If Vic screwed up, he wouldn't be close enough to take action.

But he couldn't suggest being on the same team as Vic because he feared the guys would misinterpret his intentions. He believed, based on their actions of late, they would think he wanted to be on Vic's team to try to blame any screw up on Vic. But that wasn't his motivation—keeping his brothers alive was Clay's priority.

During the training sessions, Clay noticed Vic took rash actions without thinking that often put either the team or hostages at risk. Vic always had an excuse, usually blaming it on someone else, or outright denying it happened the way Clay said it did, and for the life of him, Clay couldn't understand why his brothers believed the new guy over him. None of this computed—almost like he was in some weird version of The Twilight Zone or an Alternate Universe.

Being wrongfully accused of trying to make Vic look bad stuck in Clay's craw. Never once had he been anything but truthful with his team—well, aside from hiding a minor injury or two. But nothing when it came to the critical elements that ensured they came home from a spin up. He wholeheartedly accepted Bravo's first rule—never lie to Jason. Unfortunately, Vic didn't and Jason was blind—they all wore blinders when it came to Vic.

With that in mind, as he lay there, Clay mentally ran a multitude of scenarios, assessing each one, and endeavoring to discern how his team might react to a suggestion that allowed him to keep them safer. There were so many unknowns. Disheartened when he couldn't pinpoint how they would act, something he could've done a month ago before Vic joined, Clay let out a sigh and sat up to relieve the pressure on his shoulder.

He spotted Davis, and she smiled at him—he returned the gesture. At least she didn't treat him any differently. She'd been in his corner from day one. In hindsight, he was glad she visited him in the hospital—though he'd been a bit harsh, he'd given her the kick in the pants she needed so she didn't DOR from OCS. Now they had one kick-ass intelligence officer.

Though he did miss one thing about her being their logistics specialist, she would've walked up to him by now and offered him a sleeping aid. But that wasn't her job now. He should've packed some because the ibuprofen was not doing its job. The chronic ache would keep him from sleeping.

Resigned to be awake for the remainder of the flight, Clay lay back down, to appear to the others as if sleeping, and ran through the scenarios again, determined to find a solution that would allow him to protect his brothers instead of getting kicked to the side and possibly off Bravo altogether.

At some point, Clay's exhausted body did slip into a light slumber, but when a hand jostled his left shoulder, the pain woke him and his eyelids popped open to find Sonny crouching beside him. For one fleeting moment, his world was right, but then Sonny spoke and the coldness of his tone and the use of his real name brought him back to the present.

"Clay, get up. Time to jock up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loving the responses. Thanks, they make my day. I'm glad everyone is excited about enjoying the story concept of an irredeemable Vic. More whump and action in the next chapter.
> 
> If you haven't checked out my website or novels, I just gotta say, they are jamb packed with whump, action, angst, team as family, brotherhood, and a bit of romance ('cause our guys deserve a bit of fun too). Take a peek at lauraactonauthor.com


	3. I Think I’ve Broken Something

**_Helo En Route to Infil Location_ **

Jason glanced at Clay, satisfied with his decision even though Ray disagreed with him. Lives were at stake, so pairing two squabbling siblings, as Ray referred to Clay and Vic, didn't seem like the brightest idea. Although he trusted Clay to act in a professional manner, he just didn't have a full bead on Vic yet, and his team's safety was a primary concern.

Putting Clay with Brock in overwatch was the solid choice. Brock was steady as a rock, and there appeared to be no friction between them like with Sonny and even Trent. Also, pairing himself with Vic would give him an opportunity to assess Vic in a real-life situation. It might help him determine a path forward for his teammates to resolve their differences … or clue him into why Clay had a problem with Vic. Either way, this was better whether Ray agreed or not.

Refocusing on their mission, Jason ran the scenario through his head again. Lisa and Mandy, who made an excellent intel team, tracked down a Serbian arms dealer, Vuk Ristovski, pinpointing him in a remote area of eastern Serbia near the border with Romania. Being a covert snatch and grab mission, not sanctioned by Serbian authorities, Bravo would helo in and out and patrol on foot to Ristovski's location.

Ristovski took up residence in an old mining town which was abandoned in the 1950s. The building he chose to live in was the only one with electricity, likely provided via generators. The rest of the structures were in varying states of dilapidation—the quality of construction under the communistic rule nowhere near meeting standards. The four-story structure Ray pointed out for the sniper perch was in a sorry state, but it provided the best visibility.

Jason drew in a breath and slowly exhaled as the pilot communicated, they were two mikes out from infil. He'd done his best to plan this mission, and now he would rely on his team to execute as they always did. His gaze moved to the treetops of the forest they skimmed—flying low and below the radar to remain undetected. Although tonight was illuminated by a half-moon, the heavy cloud cover gave them the darkness they preferred to operate in.

Wedged between Jason and Ray in the helo, Vic grinned, excited to be partnered with Jason. He believed his little chat with his team leader on the plane had an impact on who Jason chose. He'd now have a chance to show the master chief his skills without Clay criticizing his every move. Vic almost smirked when Jason relegated Spenser to overwatch. The pain-in-the-ass who believed himself a blond god wouldn't be taking any action sitting on top of a roof. This mission would work out well for him.

When Jason quietly informed him of his decision, Ray kept his dissension muted, not wanting to publicly oppose Jason so close to the op. However, he believed Jason missed a grand opportunity to throw the two bickering members together. They were all SEALS. They all went through BUD/s, served on numbered Teams, and made it through Green Team before being drafted to DEVGRU, so they weren't slackers. They had to be team players because those who weren't didn't make it to top tier teams—the pipeline weeded out lone-wolves long before.

Ray did notice a difference in Clay when told he'd be overwatch and Vic would be with Jason. The kid seemed to settle—some tension washed from his body. Though Clay still held himself stiffly and remained quieter than usual too. Both likely a result of Jason's balling out in the cages. Ray's reflective thoughts ended and he focused on the mission as they were given the signal to fast-line to the infil location.

Gripping the rope, Clay sucked in a breath and prepared for the pain that was certain to shoot through his left shoulder. Thankfully, he went first and no one heard his soft moan as he landed and disengaged from the line and took up a defensive position as the others descended.

* * *

**_Patrolling to Target Location_ **

After an hour's hike from their infil location, the team reached the narrow trail on the mountain. The men of Bravo were forced to go single file with Ray in the lead, followed by Brock, Sonny, Jason, Trent, Vic, Clay, and Full Metal bringing up the rear. The rocky terrain caused them to go slower than they wanted, but they would make up time on the second half of their trek.

Night vision guiding their path since the water-laden clouds blanketed them in darkness, Vic huffed a bit with the thinner air. His gaze centered on Trent's back he didn't spot the hole and his body heaved to the left when his ankle twisted. His eyes widened as his view changed to nothing as he started to fall off the edge of a two-hundred-foot cliff. In the next moment, his entire body jerked to a halt and he dangled like a rag doll over the precipice.

Clay grunted as his left hand seized the back of Vic's vest, and then again when Metal grabbed his, preventing him from following Vic into oblivion. Pain rippled down his left arm, which held Vic as Metal called out to the others and yanked him backward. With Trent's and Jason's help, both were pulled back to solid ground.

Vic tried to rise but hissed in pain when his right foot touched the ground. "Crap, I think it's busted."

As Trent set about checking Vic's ankle, Clay rubbed his strained shoulder. He wished he could pop a few more pills to dull the pain, but then he would have to admit he had a slight injury and with Vic's possibly broken ankle, that would cause Jason to worry more than necessary—not optimal during a critical mission.

"You okay?" Full Metal asked as he noticed Clay rubbing his shoulder.

"Yeah, just working out the kink from holding Vic's weight. What about you … and thanks for keeping us from taking a flight to neverland."

Scott chuckled. "I'm good. You got fast reflexes … the new guy should be thanking you."

 _Never gonna happen … unless he wants to score brownie points with Jason._ Instead of replying out loud, Clay shrugged without thinking. He wished he hadn't when the motion caused the pain to escalate a notch. Although he maintained a mostly stoic mien, he was glad for the darkness and his helmet that hid the telltale furrowing of his brows, indicating pain.

Trent glanced up at Jason. "Only twisted, not broken. I'll wrap it tightly and he'll be good to go." Trent shifted his gaze back to Vic. "Will be sore, got some OTC painkiller if you want."

"Yeah. Probably the best, so I don't slow us down." Vic grimaced as Trent gruffly attended to his foot. Field medicine sucked at the best of times, down and dirty, basic, and suck up the pain. He clenched his jaw, refusing to make any sound. His gaze turned to Clay and wondered why he would risk his life to save him, especially since Clay couldn't stand him.

Finished with Vic, Trent stood and peered at Clay. "You alright?"

Metal grinned and patted Clay's right shoulder. "Already asked. Wonder Boy is okay."

Jason eyed Clay. They had a problem when the kid first joined with him hiding minor injuries, but once they earned his trust, he was entirely honest with them about even the simplest aches and strains. When Clay met his gaze, Jason let the inquiry go without having Trent check him out too.

* * *

**_Outskirts of Old Mining Town_ **

The team halted behind a structure with a collapsed roof and only three walls. The hike here almost ended in disaster when Vic stepped in a hole and started to fall at the edge of a steep two-hundred-foot cliff drop. Watching Vic limp badly and lean against a wall, Jason realized he needed to redo the pairings.

He required someone fully mobile with him, and his decision to pair himself with Vic to assess his capability under fire needed to change for everyone's safety. Clay's action in the field, saving Vic, spoke loud and clear to Jason—Clay would never risk a brother's life, regardless of any personal issues. And Vic would be stupid to pull any crap after the guy saved his life. So, with only a little reservation, Jason said, "Calling an audible. Seven you're now with Six on overwatch. Five's with me."

Vic hid a scowl, disappointed with the change and he didn't understand why Jason would change things up at this late stage.

Brock and Clay nodded, and Ray smiled, all agreeing with and comprehending the reason for Jason's call. With the sniper perch closer to the outskirts, Vic wouldn't require as much time on his feet, giving his ankle a moment to rest before they exfil'ed

Sonny tapped Vic's shoulder to gain his attention. Clay preventing Vic from falling to certain death shook some sense into Sonny and he decided to no longer give Clay the cold shoulder. After this mission, he planned to take his little brother out for a few beers and get to the root of Clay's problem with Vic.

But for now, a slight amount of return to normalcy was in order, so Sonny said, "Now Miss Victoria, no more wobbling on your high-heels. Don't think Mr. GQ is interested in carrying your ass to exfil." Sonny flashed Clay a Texas-sized grin.

Surprised, yet happy Sonny reverted to calling him by a nickname, Clay let out a slight chuckle along with other guys. Vic's scowl showed for a fraction of a second before he covered by giving a mirthless chuckle to fit in.

"Move out, and Six, we'll wait for your all-clear signal before advancing." Jason patted Clay's upper back on the left side but missed the grimace as he turned his attention to notifying HAVOC of the changes.

Clay took point, going slower than he would've wished, but with Vic limping behind him, his pace needed to adjust. Although he had accepted Jason's previous decision, aware Vic tried to cozy up to Jason and wouldn't pull any shit while in his presence, this new pairing suited his mind and heart better. He trusted Brock to keep Jason safe and vice versa. Vic would be his problem—one he could handle.

* * *

**_Overwatch Building_ **

Although skilled at ignoring and overriding pain, the throbbing in Clay's shoulder continued to edge in and caused him to grimace several times. When they reached the structure, slipped inside, and found the stairs, Clay almost groaned. They were not constructed out of concrete. Rusted metal with many broken and missing treds snaked upward with a landing at each floor and continued up to the roof in a similar manner.

He keyed his comms and reported, "Bravo Six to Bravo One, in the stairwell, two mikes before we'll have overwatch."

"Copy," Jason responded.

"We need to find another way … I'm not going up that death trap," Vic murmured.

Clay eyed him. "There isn't another stairwell."

"How do you know?" Vic challenged. "It isn't like we had blueprints."

"Not time to debate. Go."

"You're not the master chief," Vic muttered.

"No, but I have seniority over you. Move." Clay pinned Vic with a steely gaze.

Reluctantly, Vic started upwards, cautiously testing each step before placing his whole weight on it. Clay followed, his eyes scanning up and down to ensure no tangos popped in for a visit. Near the fourth-floor landing, Vic stumbled as the pain in his ankle increased. He crashed down on his knees on the landing and let out a grunt as the staircase shuddered and metal whined.

"You okay?" Clay asked, aware walking on a twisted ankle couldn't be any more comfortable than moving his throbbing shoulder, which after catching Vic at the cliff felt worse—like he pulled a muscle or tendon.

"Yeah. Jesus, we'll be lucky if this thing doesn't crash down on us." Vic rose and continued upward.

"Don't jinx us."

"You're superstitious? Geez, get a grip, Spenser," Vic scoffed.

"No, just don't go asking for trouble on missions. It's likely to find you." Clay followed Vic and neither noticed several bolts attaching the stairs to the wall broke under their weight and the movement caused by Vic's fall.

Exiting onto the roof, Clay moved to the west side which gave them a view of the front of the target building, and also an angle of the paths approaching the north and south sides. He would be able to alert each team if tangos converged in any of those directions. With no exit on that building's west side, all egresses were covered. "Scan south and east, I'll do west and north."

Vic did as told, though he hated taking orders from Clay. "All quiet, no movement."

Clay surveyed his directions then keyed his comms. "Bravo Six to Bravo One. All clear."

"One to Six, solid copy. Bravo One to HAVOC, passing Ruby." Jason signaled his men and they moved out.

* * *

**_HAVOC – Bravo Plane_ **

"HAVOC to One … copy, passing Ruby." Blackburn responded before he resumed pacing and Lisa marked off the mission step. Not having ISR overhead, or more correctly having it overhead but visibility blocked by clouds left the command center in the blind.

Eric halted and grinned when five minutes after Bravo entered the building, Jason communicated, "Bravo One to HAVOC, jackpot. Moving to exfil."

"Copy." Eric loved it when the mission went off without a hitch. _Well, the cliff thing could've made everything go wrong, but Clay and Scott prevented a tragedy._ Eric chuckled as he thought of Full Metal's real name, no one ever did. He liked having Alpha One as part of Bravo. Sending eight men out made missions flow a bit easier, and in this case, allowed Jason to make necessary changes on the fly that he wouldn't have been able to without all eight.

The grin fell from Eric's face in the next moment as Jason relayed, "HAVOC, troops in contact."

* * *

**_Target Building_ **

As Brock zip-tied the hands of a groggy Ristovski, the radio came alive with Clay's warning of a large armed force in technicals approaching from the south. Jason barely had time to lift his rifle before gunfire erupted both inside and outside the building and he reported to HAVOC.

Ray and Trent converged on their position and Ray said, "We ain't going out the south door. The kids up top are picking off those venturing close."

Sonny skidded to a halt in the room after he and Metal schwacked the few tangos inside who decided to wake up and lift a gun at them. He figured one must've contacted the others, or there must be a surveillance set up they missed because the timing of the mass of tangos sucked too much to be coincidental. "North might be the best bet."

"Six, how does North look?" Jason asked.

Clay paused in firing to take a look. "Clear for now. Go. We'll keep 'em busy and cover your exit, then find our way to the secondary exfil."

Hating this decision, but the information the HVT could provide was the priority, Jason said, "Copy. Don't overstay your welcome."

"Roger." Clay picked off five more then had to change mags.

"Let's go." Jason grabbed Ristovski's arm and pushed him forward.

"We're not leaving the kids to fend for themselves?" Sonny more stated than questioned.

"You heard the boss, move," Ray barked.

"Don't like it any more than you, Sonny," Jason said before he informed HAVOC they were heading out.

* * *

**_Overwatch Building_ **

Clay and Vic alternated laying down fire to conserve their limited ammo, drawing return shots as the rest of Bravo exited the building with the HVT and made it to the cover of trees.

"Almost Winchester," Vic said as he ducked down after taking a few shots. His heart raced as the adrenaline rushed through his veins.

"RPG, run!" Clay shouted as he yanked Vic up and pushed him in front of him towards the stairs.

They cleared the entrance just as the rocket-propelled grenade slammed into the wall where they recently occupied. The blast wave threw them both down the steps. Their arms and legs intermingled as they rolled the last five steps to the fourth-floor landing. Vic ended up on top of Clay, chest to chest, but making a t-shape. Breathing hard, both lay still for a moment trying to orient themselves and deal with the ringing in their ears.

Vic moved first since his body pinned Clay's down. He made it to his knees and huffed. "Shit. That was too damned close." Babying his injured ankle, Vic shifted to the treds leading to the third floor, giving Clay room to rise.

Cognizant of his aching left shoulder, tumbling down metal stairs not improving its condition, Clay started to push up with his right hand. He didn't hold back the guttural moan as he halted his upward motion. Cradling his hand on his belly below his vest, Clay panted through the waves of intense pain.

"What's wrong?" Vic asked, panic on the rise … they needed to get moving if they were going to make it to exfil.

"I think I've broken something." Using his abs only, Clay sat up and moved his arm to peer at his right hand. Although it hurt to move his left arm, he used that hand to feel along his forearm. "Not a deformed break, but definitely busted."

"Sucks, but we need to go now or were dead men. We'll splint it later." Vic took two steps down before screaming metal gave way, and he no longer had a solid surface to stand on.

For the second time today, Clay reacted with lighting speed as his left hand shot out and managed to grasp Vic's wrist as the rookie's arm outstretched seeking purchase on something to halt what would be a four-story trip to death. Their grips were wrist to wrist as Clay lay flat on his stomach and Vic swung below him. In agony from slamming his broken arm on the metal grating as he moved to save Vic, and his left shoulder bearing Vic's full weight, Clay clenched his jaw, unable to speak.

After the crashing sounds of the stairs collapsing to the ground floor petered out, fear laced through Vic as he recognized he almost died for a third time today. Anger joined the emotional swirl as he realized Spenser saved his ass each time. Not wanting to admit to fear, Vic allowed anger to win out as he yelled, "What are you waiting for? Pull me up."

Pain coursing through him, Clay managed to grit out, "Can't."

"Why?"

The initial searing pain ebbing, Clay met Vic's eyes. "You rammed me into a fucking doorjamb. Remember?"

"So? You're gonna drop me for that?"

"No, dimwit, I can't lift you. My shoulder was bruised before I grabbed you on the cliff. I think that did more damage and now I'm pretty damned sure my rotator cuff just tore. I'm barely holding you. I'll hook my legs, use my arm as a rope and haul your ass up here. Be quick or you're gonna take one helluva swan dive and the landing will suck."

Reaching up with his free hand, Vic seized a handful of Clay's shirt sleeve and pulled himself up, grateful for the upper body workouts he did on his pull-up bar every morning. Releasing his grip on Clay's wrist, he continued his upward climb until he grasped a portion of the landing then hauled his body up beside Clay.

Clay remained still, his left arm dangling uselessly after Vic made it up. Beads of sweat coated his forehead as he fought against the black speckles at the edge of his vision caused by the intense pain. Viewing the mangled mess of metal below, the only bright spot that came to mind is the massive amount of debris would prevent any tangos from entering the stairwell.

The downside of a blocked path and being four stories up popped in Clay's mind. _Shit. How are we going to make it to the secondary exfil?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this satisfies the need for whumpage ... more to come. Evil muse is laughing.


	4. Cerb, I Have A Feeling We're Not in Virginia Anymore

**_Primary Exfil Location_ **

Jason's gut twisted as they stood in the trees, maintaining cover as they waited for the inbound helo to land in the small clearing. The pilot would have to be extremely talented to not hit the pines with the rotors. Sonny bitched the whole way here, and Jason didn't blame him one damned bit, and if he weren't the one in charge, the one to make the decision, he'd be throwing a major tantrum too.

Leaving two men behind, one with a bum ankle, to fend for themselves might haunt him for years to come. But he had no choice. Well, truthfully, he did, but not one without huge repercussions. But it wasn't the possibility of Lindell cratering his career if he got the HVT killed that made his decision, it was trust in Clay's abilities. The kid was intelligent, saw the matrix, and damned innovative when their backs were up against the wall. All the reasons Spenser would make a great Master Chief and Bravo team leader someday.

More than once, hell, numerous times, Clay pulled their asses from the fire with his creative solutions. So, getting the HVT to the helo was the right call to make—come hell or high-water, the kid would ensure he and Vic made it to the secondary exfil location. However, as certain as he was with Clay's skills, his gut still roiled. He hated leaving behind the young man who had become somewhat of a son to him.

Jason also didn't like hanging a rookie out to dry either, even if in Clay's capable care. Though not as invested in Vic, he'd only known him a month, he didn't want anything to happen to the new guy either. Jason prided himself on bringing his men home safely … and often broke rules in order to do so. Blackburn always had his back when he did, but with Lindell breathing down his neck and intense scrutiny of his every action lately, Jason wondered how much Blackburn could cover for him now.

As the helo began to descend Jason gave the signal to move out of cover. Once the HVT was secured inside and their helo rose again, Jason turned his attention to the pilot. "Two are expected at the secondary exfil."

"Copy."

Jason keyed his comms. "Bravo One to Six, what's your pos?" Only static returned. "One to Six, how copy?" Again, dead air greeted his inquiry.

"Could be a little busy at the moment?" Ray suggested, though his heart thudded when the kid didn't answer.

Repeated attempts to raise either Clay or Vic over the radios by both Jason and Eric failed. Jason asked if ISR had any visual of the two, and Lisa responded with a dejected no—the clouds still impeded their view.

Sonny clenched his jaw and fists—pissed off at Jason for leaving their kid and the new guy. He didn't give a flying fuck what Jason ordered when they arrived at the secondary point, if his little brother wasn't there, he was damned-well jumping off this helo and going to find him. Oh, and yeah, Vic too.

Unbeknownst to Sonny, a similar thought was shared by every single one of them … the pilot could fly the HVT back HAVOC and Mandy would get her critical intel—their duty done, it was time to fulfill their vows as brothers … no man left behind.

* * *

**_Overwatch Building_ **

Bilateral injuries to his arms presenting him with a significant challenge, Clay somehow succeeded in rolling over and sitting up using his core muscles. Though his left shoulder burned and protested any movement, Clay raised his hand enough to depress his comms button. The weakness in his grip further confirmed his suspicion he tore the tendons in his rotator cuff.

"Bravo Six to Bravo One. Got us a problem." Clay waited but received no response. He tried several more times before attempting to contact HAVOC, to no avail. "Vic, mine must be busted. You try."

"Yours isn't broken … the radio portion is gone. Likely below in the rubble of the twisted metal along with mine." Vic held up his antenna with trailing exposed wires.

Peeved he wasted precious minutes trying to reach Jason and Blackburn and Vic knew his radio was gone, Clay glared at him. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

Vic shrugged and decided to use a barb since he refused to admit to Clay that he'd been in a state of panic and needed the time to quell his nerves, "Thought you knew everything."

When the landing shifted, metal groaning, all thoughts of arguing fled as Clay yelled, "Move!"

Not needing to be told twice, Vic scrambled up, ignoring the fact Clay might need help rising, and rushed to the fourth-floor door. He pushed it open and ran several feet, wanting to be nowhere near the collapse of the remainder of the stairwell. He barely spotted the gaping hole in the floor and adjusted his trajectory to miss it.

Grateful he never missed leg day, Clay managed to surge to his feet without the use of his arms. The door was swinging closed by the time he reached it and one foot stepped on the threshold as the landing beneath his other foot vanished in a cacophony of screeching metal. He moved in the same direction as Vic had, but Clay's pissed off gaze landed on the new guy, ready to give him an ass-chewing for not bothering to assist a brother.

The selfish prick didn't give one moment of thought to the fact he might've needed help. _So much for saving his ass three times in less than one day—apparently it didn't count for a damned thing._ All Clay's doubts and reservations about the guy had been validated in Vic's single cowardly move.

Clay's thoughts disappeared along with his view of Vic and the solid floor under his feet as Clay dropped through the hole. He came to a sudden and painful stop on the concrete twelve feet below. No matter how hard he tried to remain conscious, Clay's vision sparked with flashes of white and began to gray at the edges as a tsunami of ungodly pain crashed over him. Through the ever-shrinking pinpoint tunnel of his vision, Clay's last view was of Vic smirking at him from above before his lights went out.

* * *

**_Secondary Exfil Location_ **

Jason didn't give a command, but every one of his men hopped out of the helo and spread out to search for Clay and Vic when they didn't show themselves. So many possibilities ran through Jason's head—hurt or dead only a few feet from exfil, they never made it out of the building, they were still on the run trying to evade the tangos—too many potential outcomes—which all led to a deep sense of guilt.

He didn't want this to be another Seminole moment in his life—he wanted the kid and Vic to be alive. Jason wanted them to have a tale of daring to tell at the Barnacle while he bought them beers. A tall tale that would grow with each telling over the decades—much like Sonny's retelling of the time he got bit by a shark. It was a tiny baby shark, and it nipped his finger, but to hear it told today, it was a Great White and it nearly bit off his whole arm.

When Ray returned and shook his head, Jason said, "Bravo One to HAVOC, are we alone on the channel?"

"Hold one." Eric switched to a secure channel that the Ops Command back in Virginia would be able to listen in on. Lindell had been riding Bravo, and Jason hard for the last few weeks, and whatever Jason wanted to say, Eric understood Lindell would likely find fault with. "Go."

"Situational awareness. HVT secured in helo. We're going to find our boys."

"Copy. Bring 'em home."

Ray had the map out and when Jason finished, he pointed to it as he said, "This route is the one Clay would've taken with Vic's ankle, even though the other one would've been more direct."

Jason nodded, agreeing the one that required them to scale up a rocky cliff face would've been difficult if not impossible for Vic, so Clay would've taken the longer one that wouldn't be as challenging with a bum ankle. "Let's move."

* * *

**_HAVOC – Bravo Plane_ **

Frustrated by the weather conditions impeding the ISR, Lisa slammed her hand down on the table. While working to gather intel on Ristovski's location she hadn't been around the team much in the past month, but they were all her brothers, well, except for Sonny, he was something more, and she never liked when they had to leave anyone behind. Her heart ached that Clay had not been at the secondary location and was saddled with Vic.

Yeah, the few times she spoke with them, she heard enough about Clay's poor attitude towards Vic to form a very different opinion of the new guy. Clay always gave people the benefit of the doubt and a long lead before taking a dislike to them. She figured it was his upbringing and issues with his good-for-nothing father that made Clay more forgiving and less judgmental of others.

Which is why she was ticked off at the guys. They knew Clay. Their kid never lied to them. What would Clay gain by being petty and making false statements about Vic? Nothing. And he was not a spiteful man in the first place. Yeah, he might've been a little disheartened and upset when Jason passed over Yoder and selected Lopez, but Clay wouldn't go out of his way to make waves … not about something like that.

So there had to be a solid reason for Clay's claims and attitude. Unfortunately, the guys couldn't or didn't for whatever reason believe him and thought him only being resentful, mean-spirited, and sulking.

Lisa checked the weather reports again, and a sliver of hope shone through. The cloud cover was forecasted to burn off by mid-morning. She hoped the team located the missing guys way before then, but if not, she would be able to act as a fairy godmother and guide them to Clay … and yeah, Vic too.

* * *

**_Overwatch Building_ **

Clay's eyes fluttered up as a wet tongue licked his cheek. Turning his head, Clay smiled. "Hey, Cerb. Where'd you come from?"

The Malinois cocked his head and barked.

Pushing upward, Clay glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings. He stood and as he did, he noticed his boots were now shiny red. Confused he blinked when Cerb barked again, and he caught sight of Lisa—but not Lisa he'd ever seen before. She wore a puffy ball gown made from camo material, and a golden crown hovered over her tactical helmet. When she waved a wand at him, Clay laughed. "Lisa, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?"

"About time you woke. Time to go."

"Go where?"

Lisa pointed to a beach sand trail leading off into the horizon. "Find your way home. The journey won't be easy, but true friends will help you along the way. However, you'll have to watch out for the Vicked Vitch of the Vest."

"The what?"

Lisa's wand pointed behind him and Clay turned to find a smashed Budweiser can.

"You ruined the Vicked Vitch of the Vest's chance to be a DEVGRU SEAL. He'll want revenge. Take care in your travels, and remember, your brothers still care even though they've been first-class jerks."

A swirl of her wand and Lisa disappeared from his view. Clay crouched down beside Cerb and scratched behind his ears. "Cerb, I Have A Feeling We're Not in Virginia Anymore."

Clay blinked again when Cerberus's bark turned into real words, "Yep, nowhere near Virginia. I'm gonna stay with you until you reach the Master Chief of Oz. He'll fix everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers ... sorry for the shorter chapter, but I had such fun writing the last section, I'll confess I thought it would be a good cliffy and I wanted to post it sooner. Evil muse still has plans.
> 
> Oh and for those who don't know, the Special Warfare insignia known as the "SEAL Trident" is also referred to as a Budweiser since the eagle, anchor, trident emblem is similar to the Budweiser beer logo. Now, the Budweiser can in the story will make sense to you.


	5. He Even Looks So Pretty When He Bleeds

**_Overwatch Building – Fourth Floor_ **

Vic lowered his night vision and stared down into the inky blackness at Clay's inert form. When his teammate didn't move, Vic began to pace. "What the fuck am I gonna do? If he's not dead, I'm screwed. If he's dead, I still might be screwed."

Dropping to his knees, he peered at Clay's position again as he tried to calm himself and ascertain if Spenser still lived. From up here, he couldn't tell a damned thing. "Why the hell did Jason pair me with this asshat? Clay is ruining my life just because I wasn't his first choice. Well, fuck him. Jason and Ray chose me and that's all that really matters."

Rising again, Vic went to the door to the stairwell and sucked in a few breaths, desperately trying to determine how he should proceed. If he left now and high-tailed it to the exfil location he could tell them Clay died in the fall. He halted that train of thought when he realized Hayes would come to collect the body, so that would only work if Spenser was actually dead.

Vic's mind whirled, and he even briefly considered climbing down to Clay and tossing him into the stairwell to ensure he died and his cover story would work—but murdering a teammate was a step too far for him. If Clay perished in the fall because he didn't warn him about the hole, fine, but to outright kill him—no he couldn't do that—and there might be evidence that would contradict him—like blood on the concrete below—not that he saw any blood.

As he continued to weigh options his breathing started to slow and his mind calmed when a reasonable plan formed—one that would show him in a better light. A smile grew as one by one the details settled into place. "That will work. And even if Clay lives, he'll be booted from Bravo like Jason said in the equipment cage."

His strategy set, Vic started searching the room for anything he could use to safely drop to the third floor. When voices speaking a foreign language drifted up to him, Vic wished he understood. Pausing again, he ventured close to the glassless window and peeked out.

Below him was a group of ten tangos, gathering their dead and loading them into the bed of a truck. He blew out a relieved breath. _They must assume the RPG killed us since we stopped firing. I need to keep it that way._ Vic waited in place for fifteen minutes, not making a sound, until the last vehicle drove away.

* * *

**_Trekking to Old Mining Town_ **

As the team started their trek from the secondary exfil location, the heavy gray clouds unleash a torrent of freezing rain—almost as if someone broke a dam and released a lake's worth of stored water. Lightening also lit up the night sky every few minutes with crashing thunder. When they approached a turnoff point, one for the longer route, and one for the more precarious path, Jason decided to break the team into two on the off-chance Clay and Vic chose to take the short one.

Jason, Sonny, and Trent double-timed it via the longer one. Where the paths converged again, about three clicks away from the mining town, they met up with Ray, Brock, and Metal who had taken the shorter one, which required them to go slower.

Caked in mud like Metal and Brock, from a nasty spill down the incline, Ray shook his head as he approached Jason. "Sorry, brother. Didn't spot any sign of them. But with this rain, all tracks would be washed away. They might've taken shelter somewhere along the way too."

"Wish we had Cerb with us," Brock added as he leaned against a tree. The hair missile might not be able to pick up a scent in this weather, but he would seek out one of his boys with earnest—like the time Cerb found Clay in Tibet.

Metal tapped Trent's shoulder. "You need to take a look at Brock's cheek. He kissed a rock on our tumble down."

"I'm fine. Just a little slice. The rain washed it," Brock brushed off the worry. Yeah, his cheek stung like a MF but he didn't want them to slow down on account of him. His gut told him Clay needed them.

Jason sent one glance to Trent and Brock was pushed to the ground while Sonny and Metal flanked Trent, creating a small blind so Trent could use his penlight to assess Brock's injury.

"Ow … don't touch. I said it's fine." Brock couldn't suppress a hiss as Trent probed with his fingers.

Twisting to peer at Jason, Trent reported, "It'll require stitches and a thorough cleaning later, but for now I'll use a couple of steri-strips to keep the edges closer together."

"Do it."

"Just leave it, Clay and Vic need us to find them," Brock countered as he tried to rise. Two sets of hands, on opposite shoulders, pushed him back down and Trent glared at him. "Alright. Make it quick."

A devilish grin appeared on Trent. "When am I ever slow? I'll be finished in seconds."

Full Metal snickered and turned Trent's reference to fast field medicine into a sexual innuendo as he said, "Poor women."

Sonny and Brock chuckled and Trent's grin transformed into a grimace and he groaned when he realized he gave Full Metal the ammo to shoot him. The necessary tension relief accomplished, Metal refocused on Jason and Ray as Jason communicated with HAVOC.

Not finding a trace of either man on either route, didn't bode well. Scott understood what must be going through Jason's head right now—as a leader, losing men under your command always twisted your gut and came with a boatload of guilt and a long series of what-ifs and questioning one's decisions.

Scott hoped for Jason's sake they found both alive, especially the blond wonder boy who seemed to hold a special spot in Jason's heart. He'd never seen Jason take such an interest in mentoring anyone before—it was stronger even than with Nate. Losing Nate had hit Jason hard, and if he lost Clay—well, it might be like losing one of his kids—unthinkable with unfathomable consequences.

When Trent finished tending Brock, Sonny wiped the rain from his eyes, and said, "My bet is they're in the building. We go there now, search for them."

"Whoa, slow your roll. We don't know if any tangos are still in the vicinity," Ray responded.

"They're dead if they are … we didn't run all the way here to stop now," Sonny shot back.

"Bravo One to HAVOC, how copy?"

"Solid copy."

"All elements heading to the overwatch building."

"Good hunting …" Eric's voice trailed off. If both teams reached a point where they were going to the building, the odds of Clay and Vic being alive diminished considerably.

Sonny took point moving out at a grueling pace, his boots splashing mud with every pounding step, praying they would find both alive.

* * *

**_Overwatch Building – Third Floor_ **

Vic jerry-rigged a couple of rotting planks of wood with a bit of rope he found to lower himself down, and his feet were only four feet off the ground when he let go. His twisted ankle screamed when his foot hit and he collapsed beside Clay. Taking a moment to breathe through the pain, Vic couldn't believe the situation he was in.

It took him longer than he expected to find something that would work, and if he didn't find anything on this level to make it to the next, he would be removing his shirt and cutting it into strips to make a line. But taking off his clothing didn't appeal, especially after the rain started. The temperature dropped and the rain blew in all the open windows, chilling him.

With the tangos long gone, Vic flicked on his helmet flashlight and took his first clear view of Clay. Noting the thin trail of blood coming from the corner of his mouth that ran down his jaw and neck, he wondered if that had come from their tumble down the stairs or this fall. There wasn't a lot, so Vic didn't think Clay was bleeding internally, but the guy hadn't moved once, and if he was breathing it must be shallow and slow because he didn't see his chest rise.

Tugging off his tactical glove, Vic pressed two fingers to Clay's throat and waited. Unsure whether he was relieved or ticked-off, he detected a faint pulse. Moving his hand to under Clay's nose, he waited for an exhale. Again, extremely faint and not warm, which made him realize Clay's body temp must've dropped.

Aware Trent would rip him a new one if he dared move Clay after a twelve-foot fall which left him unconscious, Vic considered whether he should splint Clay's right forearm. Clay's sleeve was tight indicating the swelling was significant, so there might've been a secondary or compound break, but without cutting his sleeve open and checking he wouldn't know. Deciding to leave the arm alone, Vic would claim not wanting to do more harm if Trent ragged on him about not splinting it.

Although it would support his story to take the best care of Clay, part of him hoped Clay expired before help arrived—then his problems would be over. Shifting to the other side of Clay, he found a decent-sized puddle of sticky, congealing blood near Clay's left hip. That indicated he must've landed on something, but it wasn't long enough to puncture all the way through to the front. The state of the blood also implied whatever impaled Clay also acted as a plug, so moving him might start the flow again.

An envious and spiteful thought came to Vic as he gazed at Clay's face. _Shit, he even looks so pretty when he bleeds. They'll be able to have an open-casket funeral and the women will be all teary-eyed over him._

Vic checked his watch and wondered how long it would be before anyone came. He'd only run a few missions with Bravo, so he didn't have a good sense of how they operated under these conditions. Sure, he was there for the whole ambassador thing when they were under siege and had to escape via that bus, but that was different. They were all there together, and exfil'ed together. They hadn't separated.

Rising, he began searching and almost shouted for joy when he located a long coil of rope in one corner. He glanced back at Clay and modified his plan. He'd claim with no first-aid supplies, he figured going for help would be the best option. Though given Clay's current state, he expected Clay would perish before anyone returned.

After tying the rope to a sturdy pole near a window, and throwing the remaining length out and down Vic smirked as he twisted to take one final glance at Clay's motionless body. _Dying alone and forgotten is just what the pain-in-the-ass who jeopardized my place on Bravo deserves. Spenser isn't so godlike now._

* * *

**_Clay's Mind_ **

With the Emerald City on the horizon, Clay wished he could rest. He stumbled in the sand and the scarecrow with Brian's features and wearing the stupid cowboy shirt his papaw gave him, kept him from falling. "Thanks." His head pounding, his arms aching, and sharp pain in his left lower back, Clay halted and sank down. "I need to rest."

"Shake it off and keep going, we're almost there," tinman Adam ordered as he peered down at Clay.

"Not so easy," Clay responded, to the heartless tinman.

Tugging on Clay's hand, the nervous lion with Swanny's face urged him, "The flying monkeys might get us … we're almost to the city where it is safe. You can rest there."

Clay peered at Cerb when the dog spoke to him.

"Come on. You can do this, boy. We'll be with you every step of the way."

The kind words caused the emotional storm to break loose. Clay began crying, allowing the tears to stream down his face in rivulets.

Scarecrow Brian crouched beside Clay. "What's wrong?"

"They abandoned me."

"Who?" Brian sat down.

"My brothers."

"No, they haven't," Brain asserted.

Clay pinned Brian with a glare, anger mixing with his desolation. "You don't have a brain. What do you know?"

"A lot. They would never abandon you. They aren't like your mom and dad." Brain ran his hands in the sand, wishing his brother didn't have to go through this.

"Team is family," Adam stated.

Shifting his gaze to a silver Adam, Clay growled, "I know all about family. They ditch you. My mother chose drugs over me. My grandparents raised me in a war zone instead of ensuring I was safe—they had a choice and prioritized their desires over my safety. And my father … well, he's a heartless, self-centered bastard who almost ruined my career by insinuating I leaked him classified intel.

"And you're just as heartless … you reamed me for throwing myself on a grenade in training, and then, what do you do? You run straight at a suicide bomber and leave me with the guilt of causing your death. Now, my team, my so-called brothers don't believe me when I tell them about the Vicked Vitch of the Vest. They want him and not me.

"So, yeah, I know all about family … they'll leave me for dead every damned time."

A low growl came from lion Swanny as he said, "Them's fighten' words. Get up and face me." Swanny bounced from foot to foot with his hands up in a boxer stance.

Clay lashed out like the scared six-year-old he'd been when arriving in Liberia and waiting all alone for five hours before his grandparents showed up to collect him from the airport, "What are you gonna do about it? You have no courage to face your fears … you fucking killed yourself. You left me alone to find your body in the goddamned parking lot."

A hand slapped him upside the head and Clay turned stunned eyes to Brian.

"Enough." Brain pulled Clay into an embrace and as he held him, he softly said, "Cry. Let all your pain, sorrow, fear, and anger out. You've got the shit end of the stick too many times, but I promise you, the Master Chief of Oz will set everything to rights again. Your brothers love you, and they're waiting for you to come home. You will triumph over the Vicked Vitch of the Vest."

Cerb's voice held a note of a whine and begging, as he nuzzled close to his boy offering reassurance, "Hang on, boy, stay with me, with us. You are not alone. We'll protect you until the pack comes."

Swanny and Adam stood guard, alert for any flying monkeys while Brian and Cerb comforted Clay as he sobbed.

* * *

**_One Click from Old Mining Town_ **

At a full run in the sheeting rain, Sonny almost missed the lone figure slowly limping towards them. In the next moment, he recognized Vic and skid to a halt as he demanded, "Where's Goldilocks?"

Having had time to school his features, Vic pitched his tone to appear full of concern, as he waved behind him. "I didn't want to, but had to leave him … in the building."

Jason moved forward and barked, "Why did you leave Clay?"

"He's hurt bad."

"So you fucking left him for dead?" Sonny yelled.

Vic scrambled back a few steps at the heat in Sonny's glare and shifted his gaze to Trent. "No. No. I couldn't move him. Didn't want to do more harm. Going for help ... no radio to contact HAVOC."

"What happened?" Ray asked, but he was the only one besides Vic standing still as the rest of the team raced past them towards the town. Grabbing Vic's sleeve, Ray pivoted him and said, "You can tell us later."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the whumpy angst ... the boys will reach Clay in the next chapter. Oh and for full disclosure, the additional section in Clay's Mind was not originally planned since I covered prompt #20 already and thought it might be overkill to do more. But a comment by sarasidle3 over on FF, who said, "... I just know the true friends helping Clay along the way they are going to be Swanny, Adam, and Brian ..." inspired me to write that section. Thanks, sarasidle3.


	6. Today's Special: Torture … aka Medieval Field Medicine

**_Overwatch Building – Ground Floor_ **

Though physically fit, and never outrun by Sonny in all their practice drills, Vic was hard-pressed to maintain the pace Sonny set. He chalked it up to his bum ankle, and oh, yeah, a tumble down a flight of stairs, dangling four-stories up and having to haul himself up, and the two-foot drop to the ground when the rotted rope he used to exit the third story snapped on him.

Vic followed the guys inside and puffed hard as they stopped to regroup. When Jason's gaze landed on him, Vic squared his shoulders.

"Where's the stairwell?"

In a breathy voice, Vic said, "Doesn't … matter … stairs … collapsed. Climbed … down … from the ... third floor … … out … a window." Vic paused, aware questions would begin flying at him and he took several deep breaths as they did.

"Collapsed?"

"Did Bamm Bamm fall with the stairs?"

"What did you use to rappel?"

Jason halted the questions of the others as he said, "None of that matters. Where is Clay?"

"Third floor. The rope I used to come down was rotten, snapped six feet from the ground," Vic exaggerated his two-foot fall, then added an excuse, "That's why I didn't get very far to exfil … ankle took another beating."

"Show us the stairwell. We'll figure out how to get up there," Metal chimed in.

With an audience, no longer at the back of the pack, Vic played up his injury, his limp more pronounced as he guided them to the stairwell door.

Metal gripped the handle of the wooden door and pushed, but it didn't budge, even when he shoved with full power.

"Told you the stairs collapsed. Door's not gonna open." Vic leaned against the wall, lifting the weight off his sore foot.

"We'll see about that. Move, Metal." Sonny stepped forward carrying a pipe with a jagged edge he found on the floor. He began using it as an ax, hacking at the wood. In short order Sonny made significant headway, he was one damned-fine breacher and he wouldn't let any door stand in his way of reaching his little brother.

Sweating from the exertion, though one couldn't tell due to his rain-soaked clothing, Sonny stepped back to allow Brock and Metal to rip off the last remaining pieces to make a man-sized opening. Jason moved forward and shone a light into the stairwell. Besides the twisted, rusted, girding that rose almost to the second floor on the far side, Jason spied one of the radios. Though curious how the radio ended up there, he studied the metal maze, working the problem.

Spotting a strange architectural feature, what appeared to be huge steel hooks jutting out above each door opening, an idea came to him. Turning back to Ray and Metal he said, "Take a look above the doors. I'm not certain they'll hold, but if we jerry-rig an anchor and line, and throw it up on those we could climb."

Both Ray and Metal took turns checking out what Jason suggested.

When the three converged to discuss the feasibility, Trent peered inside and pulled out a pole, that might've been railing at one point. "Brock, Sonny, we need to find more like this."

"Why?" Vic asked.

Brock shot Vic an expression of _'are you stupid,'_ as he said, "To make a litter."

"Huh?"

Trent laid the pipe on the ground and turned to face Vic as his teammates rummaged through the mess to select the least corroded ones. Taking a little pity on the new guy, Trent explained, "You said Clay fell and is hurt bad enough you didn't want to move him. Hence the need for a stretcher. Not like I carry one in my med bag."

"Oh."

Jason nodded at Ray as they agreed on a course of action and started unbuttoning his pants. "Everyone, strip to your skivvies."

Again, confused Vic hesitated as all the others began doing as Jason ordered. "What the hell? Why?"

Sonny threw one of his boots at Vic, hitting him in the stomach. "Quit being a dimwit. We need a rope. Pants and shirts work well when nothing else is available."

As Vic sat down to start untying his boot, Trent said, "Only your top. Don't want you to remove the boot. It's acting as compression and if you take it off now, your ankle will balloon and you won't be able to put it back on."

Sonny tossed his shirt and pants to Metal, retrieved the boot he threw, and was back in the mess of rusted metal before Vic had even removed his vest.

While Ray and Metal created the clothing rope, Jason contacted HAVOC to find out if they would be able to bring the helo closer to them. Trent, Brock, and Sonny sorted through the wreckage locating potential poles and possible anchors. Vic remained on the floor, resting his foot as he watched them work.

Though they created the plan fast, it took them about thirty minutes before Trent was satisfied with the selection, including a six-foot by three-foot flat piece that he could use as a spinal board. It took a combined fifteen throws by Metal, Jason, and Sonny to finally set the anchor on the second-floor hook.

"I'll go first. If it holds me, should hold each of you," Sonny offered.

Jason nodded and Sonny grasped a handful of their makeshift rope and began a hand over hand climb.

* * *

**_Clay's Mind_ **

Clay peered at the entrance of Emerald City, a little sad the journey ended. He appreciated his three true friends accompanying him on a difficult path—one he didn't think he could've made without them.

"What are you waiting for? Knock already," Brian urged.

Turning to Brian, Clay pulled him in for a hug and when he released him, he said, "Thank you for always being my friend. You're the one who kept me centered and focused on my goal. I'm sorry I said you didn't have a brain."

Brian snickered. "At least you didn't say, Brain you don't have a Brian, 'cause that would mean I don't exist in your head anymore and that would be a terrible loss."

A small chuckle bubbled out from Clay.

Brian tapped Clay's forehead as he gently said, "Use your brain. No matter what Vicked Vitch does, you are smarter than him. Your brothers are pretty smart too, so trust they will see him for what he is. Jason would be a fool to choose him over you—and he isn't one."

Clay nodded.

Adam stepped forward and embraced Clay as he whispered, "You have a golden heart, Kid. Keep it open for forgiveness. That includes forgiving yourself for things that are out of your control—like my death." He pulled back and his eyes shone with unshed tears. "You make me proud. You embody what it means to be a loyal brother. Don't ever change who you are at the core and men will follow you to the ends of the earth."

Sucking in a breath, Clay said, "Don't know if I can forgive the Vicked Vitch."

"Forgiving doesn't mean accepting his behavior. Forgiveness sets your heart free. He must be held accountable for his actions and inaction—a broken trust of his magnitude has severe consequences and he WILL pay them." Adam held Clay's gaze, then smiled as Clay gave him a slight grin.

"Copy." Clay shifted his gaze to Swanny. "You're not gonna hug me, are you?"

Swanny laughed. "Hell no. I'm not one for the touchy-feely crap." Brett sobered as he said, "Have the courage to do what must be done. I'm truly sorry I didn't role model that for you."

"Swanny, I'm sorry for what I said. What you lived with … you were brave … the system failed you."

Brett shook his head. "No, you were right. I took the coward's way out and left you alone. For that, I'm so sorry. If I had it to do over, perhaps I might've been able to be stronger. Thanks for trying to make a difference for our brothers … maybe some will be saved from going down my path."

In the next moment, Clay was encircled by Swanny's arms and the man gave him a crushing bear hug as he said, "Go forth, brother. Lead the next generation."

As Brett retreated several steps, the door opened and a disembodied voice boomed, "Are you here to see the Master Chief of Oz?"

When Clay hesitated, Cerb answered, "Yes." Cerb gathered a mouthful of Clay's sleeve and pulled him forward.

Clay twisted his head, about to tell the others to follow, but they disappeared and the door closed behind him. He stood beside Cerb as he scanned the interior, finding it looked an awful lot like the ops center building on base.

* * *

**_Overwatch Building – Third Floor_ **

The first to the third floor, Trent hurried over to his downed brother and shucked his medkit. Dropping to his knees beside Clay, Trent ignored the various debris digging into his bare knees. Doing a quick, visual assessment, Trent noted the puddled blood at Clay's hip, the dried blood trail out of Clay's mouth, and the swelling of his arm.

Using AVPU, a mnemonic for Alert, Verbal, reactive to Pain, and Unresponsive to determine Clay's mental alertness, Trent scored A as one point on the Glasgow Coma Scale because Clay didn't open his eyes upon him noisily kneeling next to him. Testing for a response to a verbal command, Trent said, "Clay, open your eyes." V received one point, but he tried a different command, "Wiggle your fingers." Still no reaction. Trent fisted his hand and pressed his knuckles to Clay's sternum and rubbed for thirty seconds to assess his reaction to a painful stimulus. Another one point—his patient was most definitely unresponsive.

After yanking off his glove, Trent's gut flipped and he held his breath as his fingers reached out to check for a pulse, worried he might not find one.

As Jason knelt at Clay's head, Trent pressed two fingers to Clay's throat. Jason's eyes landed on the pooled blood before tracking upward to the hole in the ceiling. His gaze returned to his medic, and the longer Trent held his two fingers on the kid's throat, the faster Jason's heart raced. He wanted to ask if he was alive, but the words died in his own constricted throat.

He'd lost forty friends over the years and Jason didn't want to add to his list of unanswerable phone contacts. _Come on, kid, don't leave us now. Hang on. Trent's here, we got ya. I promise, if you just hold on, we'll sit down and work things out. Deal?_ Jason's vision blurred and he refused to admit they were tears—his mind insisting they were droplets of rain—but they'd been out of the storm for over forty-five minutes, so he was lying to himself.

Sonny raced forward and stopped at Clay's feet. His worried eyes raked over his little brother's motionless form, noting his legs and arms were akimbo. His eyes also moved twelve-feet upward to the gap in the cement above them—the kid took one hell of a hard fall.

Refocusing on Clay, guilt washed through Sonny for treating Clay so badly lately. _I should've talked to you instead of icing you out in favor of the new guy. I can be a shitty friend sometimes. You live, and I swear, I won't make the same mistake with you again. You wake up and you be alright, you hear me, Sleeping Beauty?_

"There," Trent blurted out with relief. "Got a pulse. Weak and slow."

Jason exhaled his held breath in a rush. After inhaling fresh air, he asked, "What do you need me to do?"

"We gotta stabilize his spine before I check him further … gotta find out what caused the bleeding. We need to go slow and careful. Jace, keep his head from moving if he stirs. Sonny, don't let his legs move yet." When Brock appeared, he said, "Find me something to immobilize his neck."

As each did as Trent instructed, Full Metal, the fifth one to climb to the third floor, moved towards the group. He started to remove his pack where they'd secured the poles and makeshift backboard.

Brock returned with a couple of small pieces of wood scrounged from this floor, he hadn't found anything on the second that would suffice while he waited for his turn to climb. He held out the woodblocks. "All I could find. We can cut off a portion of Vic's pants and wrap them to provide cushioning."

Trent halted to peer at what Brock obtained. "Yeah. That'll work." He returned to checking Clay's eyes, lifting one lid at a time to assess the pupil's diameter. He repeated separating Clay's lids and this time he shone his penlight inward from the outer canthus of each eye to test pupil reactivity.

Holding the sides of Clay's helmet to prevent movement, Jason asked, "So?"

"Sluggish but reactive and they're uneven. The kid's definitely got a grade three concussion. No idea if he's been conscious at all before now, but he didn't respond to a sternal rub." Trent reached for his scissors intending to cut Clay's sleeve when he noted Clay's fingers turning blue. He needed to assess the break sooner rather than later or Clay might lose the functioning of his hand.

Vic limped over after climbing up and stared at Spenser. _Damn, he's still alive._

Coming up last, Ray took a moment to view Clay and say a short prayer for his life. He tapped Vic's shoulder. "Follow me. We'll keep watch. We need to be aware if any of Ristovsky's men return."

Nodding, Vic followed Ray to the windows and took up a position at one on the west side of the building while Ray stood next to another giving him a view of the south.

With Jason busy helping Trent, Ray decided as they maintained security now would be the time for Vic to explain. "Walk me through what happened from the point Clay told Jace you would exfil to the secondary location."

Jason perked an ear in Vic's direction, multi-tasking since he was interested in what the hell caused Clay to end up fighting for his life after a fall.

Keeping his gaze outside, mostly to avoid giving himself away, Vic said, "Um, well, we alternated fire, keeping the tangos focused on our position. Clay ducked down to change his mag and I popped up. Spotted an RPG aimed in our direction so I yelled RPG and yanked Clay up, pushing him in front of me because I'm a bit slower with my bum ankle. He had more of a chance of outrunning it than me.

"We made it just inside the entrance to the stairwell when it exploded. The concussive effect knocked us down the stairs. Told Clay those rusted stairs might collapse before we went up." Vic halted and he flicked his eyes back to Clay. _With a significant head injury, Clay may never wake and if he does, his mind might be scrambled. This will work just as well—no proof either way and my version will be as believable as Clay's if he remembers at all._

Vic sighed like a wrongfully persecuted person before he returned his gaze to the road and said, "We stopped tumbling on the fourth-floor landing. I stood and offered him a hand, but he refused when he screamed upon moving his right hand. In the next moment, Clay was bitching at me, claiming it was my fault his arm got broken. Like I hadn't just saved his life from the RPG.

"Anyway, he kept yelling, but when the stairs started to groan, I backed up towards the exit and told him we needed to get off them now or we'd end up dead. My feet made contact with the solid surface just as the stairs gave away.

"I'm not sure how I did it, but I managed to snag Clay's left wrist and maintain my place on the fourth-floor. He started screaming for me to pull him up, and I did. Once we both were in the doorway, he started in on me again."

Turning to Trent, Vic said, "Careful with his left arm too."

Trent halted in his assessment of Clay's right forearm. "Why?"

"He claimed when I caught him, I tore his rotator cuff. That's what he was ranting at me about when he backed up and fell through the hole. I didn't know part of the floor had caved in or I would've stopped him. I called out his name several times after he landed, but he didn't respond."

Refocusing outside, his face not visible to the others, Vic allowed a smile to cross his face. "Took me time to find something to lower myself to this floor. I knew I had to remain mobile and couldn't risk breaking my ankle if I had to go for help.

"I didn't move him for fear of doing further damage. I searched and found some rope." He pointed to where he tied it off. "Had to wait until the tangos gathered their dead before I could climb down. They took over an hour to leave, which is why I didn't make it to exfil in time. Oh, and the twelve-foot drop when the rotted rope snapped."

Full Metal peered at Vic, certain the new guy had indicated a six-foot drop previously … and now it was twelve. What he knew about Clay didn't jibe with Vic's accounting, but he didn't have time to sort that out as the kid started to rouse, and move. He leapt in to help Sonny hold Clay's legs still.

* * *

**_Clay's Mind_ **

Clay absently followed Cerb through the halls to another door and when he pushed it open and entered, he found himself standing in Bravo's team room.

On the monitor at the front, a wild set of colors swirled as a voice that sounded exactly like Jason's said, "Why do you seek an audience with the Master Chief of Oz?"

"I want to go home," Clay stated.

"Then all you need to do is click your ruby boots three times and repeat, 'there's no place like home,' with each click."

Clay stared down at the bright red boots and smiled. _This is incredibly bizarre._ He brought his heels together and said, "There's no place like home." He went to repeat the motion but found his legs rooted to the tile. Panic seized him and he struggled to move his legs.

* * *

**_Overwatch Building – Third Floor_ **

"Hold him!" Trent yelled as Clay began thrashing, the splint he was applying getting knocked several feet away when Clay's hand flew up.

"Whada ya think I'm doing?" Sonny shouted back as he pressed down on Clay's feet with all his might.

"Damn, he's strong. Guess we can count paralysis out," Metal said.

"Still can do damage if we don't know all his injuries," Brock countered as he held Clay's left arm, hating he had to put pressure on a potentially injured shoulder.

Jason lowered his face inches from Clay's as he held fast to Clay's helmet, not allowing it to move at all. "Clay. Stop. I've got you. Listen, son, stay still. You're safe." He halted when Clay mumbled something. "What did you say?"

"… ere's no pl … ace ke ho …"

Jason's brow's furrowed trying to understand. "Bravo Six, say again your last."

Though slurred and barely audible, Clay responded to the military jargon, "There's no place like home."

"That's right, kid. We're here to take you home. Relax and let us do the work." Relief surged through him when blond lashes fluttered up and unfocused blue eyes met his. "Welcome back, kid."

His body going lax, Clay slurred, "Ruby boots worked," before his lids closed.

Sonny stared at Jason. "Did he say ruby boots?"

A chuckle emitted from Brock. "Yeah, he did."

As the real world reappeared, so did extreme pain, causing Clay's muscles to tense. Every nerve ending in his body screamed—and he might've screamed along with them.

All humor evaporated at Clay guttural cry of pain. Trent noted bright-red blood flowed into the previously congealed puddle. "Shit, he's bleeding. We need to roll him to his right side so I can find out what's causing it."

Working as a team, they kept Clay's spine in alignment with his head as they rolled him enough for Trent to examine the area. The whimpers, moans, and screams of their brother tore at all their hearts. Well, all except one, Vic smirked as he took a moment to peer at Clay.

Unbeknownst to Vic, Ray happened to catch his smirk, but Ray's attention was grabbed and shifted to Clay when the kid cried out in desperation, "Get the flying monkey off my back."

"Shoot him some morphine," Sonny barked, unable to stand Clay's pain-filled delirium much longer.

"Can't yet. Hold him still. I gotta stop this bleeding first." Trent cut a portion of Clay's shirt seeking a visual on the wound. When they rolled him, he found a thick block of wood under that part of his body, but it had nothing sticking out of it, so he needed to find whatever caused the puncture wounds.

Though bordering on medieval torture, Trent's gloved finger probed and found a mass of something hard. Grabbing for his tweezers, he said, "This is gonna hurt like hell. Make sure he doesn't move. I gotta get whatever that is out so I can pack the hole."

Jason kept up a flow of words to Clay, holding his head still, but his words weren't heard above Clay's cries as Trent dug for the embedded material. He wished Clay would pass out from the pain, but he didn't.

"Holy shit, what's that?" Brock said as Trent pulled out a three-inch, triangular-shaped bloody piece of something.

"Don't know." Trent dropped it and returned to probing Clay's wound to make sure got it all. He tuned out Clay, he must disassociate from the agony he was causing for the greater good. Once satisfied he got everything, Trent ripped open a package of hemostatic gauze and pushed it in to fill the hole and stop the hemorrhaging. He applied pressure when he finished, holding for three minutes, and thankfully, Clay became silent.

Since they had him partially on his side, Trent rose to retrieve the metal plank they would use to protect Clay's spine. He blew out a breath—both loving and hating he possessed medical skills that kept his brothers alive. Being the one to essentially torture them never sat well and caused many a nightmare, but the alternative was unthinkable—one of them dying because he didn't know what to do or didn't have the supplies to save them.

After they finished securing Clay, Trent took a set of vitals and gave Clay a partial ampul of morphine. He wanted to give more, but narcotics could have unpredictable effects and can make some TBI problems worse.

Full Metal picked up the blood-covered piece from where Trent discarded it and added it to the bag containing Clay's vest, they had to cut off him, and his other gear. As he zipped it closed his gaze turned to Lopez, who now sat in knee-length camo pants, having donated the lower half for strips of material to hold Clay's head still.

For Scott, something didn't sit right with Vic's version of events, but now was not the time to discuss his feelings with Jace. They still had to get the kid to an alternative exfil location. Jason was working that problem now, or more correctly Blackburn, Davis, and Ellis were because the intensity of the storm had grounded all helos, making Jason an unhappy and frustrated camper.

Turning his attention to something he could do, he approached Trent and said, "If it is still raining when we exit, I have a slightly unpalatable idea for keeping the kid dry."

Trent raked a hand through his damp hair. "And?"

"We use his body bag."

"Hell no. I'm not putting him in that!" Sonny barked.

Shoulders slumping, not liking the suggestion, but seeing the value in it since they didn't have anything else, Trent nodded. "Only if necessary."

"Agreed." Full Metal's eyes flicked to Vic. "What the hell are you smiling at?"

Caught in his imagination of Clay actually being dead, Vic's eyes rounded as he met the scary operator's gaze. He scrambled for an acceptable answer. "Clay's still alive. I thought for sure I would be too late in getting him help. I'm just so glad I wasn't."

Ray who had been waiting to talk to Jason when he calmed enough for a rational discussion of options, overheard Vic's answer and it brought back the smirk he caught earlier. His gut churned—not liking the thoughts that now crept into his mind. He was the one who persuaded Jason to draft Lopez, and he now wondered if he had been wrong. His intuition was right about Spenser, but that had been before his crisis of faith, and he might be overcompensating in a reaction to almost losing his faith.

Now was not the time to bring another potential problem to the table. Their focus must remain on getting Clay safely out of a country that hadn't sanctioned their mission. A huge hurdle, given the weather and Clay's injuries.

Clay cracked his eyes open, his world gauzy as he floated on a morphine cloud. Shifting his gaze left, he found Sonny. His throat sore from screaming, and a bit dry, his voice came out in a low rasp, "Wanna go home."

Sonny's eyes snapped to Clay. A soft smile grew as he settled a hand on Clay's sweat-drenched blond locks. "Soon, Peter Pan, soon." Sonny's voice hitched with emotion, "You rest and let your big brothers take care of you now."

His lids heavy, and it took too much effort to keep them up, Clay let them shut as he mumbled, "K. Watch out for the Vicked Vitch … he's evil."

Unsure he heard correctly; Sonny's brows scrunched. "What?" His inquiry was met with silence, and Sonny was both relieved Clay slipped off to a pain-free state again but also worried the head injury scrambled his brother's grey matter a bit too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys reached him ... but still had some whump. I think being a medic on a team would be a sort of torture in of itself ... having to hurt your teammates to help them would take a toll on a person. The next chapter will be a time jump so Clay can interact more with the rest of the guys.


	7. We've Got Your Back

**_Virginia – Hospital_ **

Lashes fluttered up to muted sounds and unfocused blue eyes stared upward. Besides the soft, intermittent beeping, the room remained quiet. Drifting in a semi-conscious state, warm and comfortable, Clay fought against waking fully. Though a movement to his left caused him to turn his head and his eyes focused on a person sitting in the chair, reading a book.

Before speaking and alerting her, Clay scanned the hospital room and didn't understand why he appeared to be in the children's ward. His room was decorated in the theme of the Wizard of Oz—strange. Returning his gaze to his visitor, Clay said, "Lisa?"

Lowering her novel, the latest in the Beauty of Life series, Lisa's eyes widened as a smile bloomed. She put Breakpoints down, rose, and moved to the bed. "You're awake. Who am I again?"

"Lisa." Clay scrunched his eyes. "Why did you ask?"

She let out a slight giggle. "Well, the last few times I was here, you called me Glinda the Good Witch."

"Huh?"

Lisa's hand swept around the room. "You can thank Sonny for the Oz decorations. You've been a little out of it. Concussion and all."

"Out of it? Concussion?"

"Yeah, grade three concussion. You've been hopped up on heavy-duty painkillers, which apparently sent you to Oz." Lisa leaned forward and whispered, "No one is mad at you, but Vic's sporting one heck of a black eye and bruised cheek. When the whole team was here three days ago, you called him the Vicked Vitch of the Vest as he tried to sign your cast after Sonny. You whacked Vic upside the head so hard the doc thought he might need to reset your fractures. Thankfully, the x-ray showed you didn't do more damage."

Clay blinked. "Cast?" Lisa pointed to his right arm which was encased in padding and red fiberglass from the second joint of his fingers to mid-bicep as she repeated what they told Clay each time he woke because he didn't recall his injuries. "An oblique displaced fracture of your radius and a transverse break of your ulna. They had to do surgery for the radius, but the doctor said it will heal as good as new. You also underwent surgery to repair torn rotator tendons, which is why your left arm is in a sling. You have a puncture wound on your left side on the back, if you're wondering why it hurts. Didn't do any major damage, mostly bleed a lot and caused an infection that is now under control."

She halted while he processed the info and hoped this time, he would retain it, since he called her by her correct name—a positive sign.

After staring at the writing on his cast, noting Sonny's scrawl, Clay met Lisa's eyes. "Who is Vic?"

"Um, your teammate, Vic Lopez."

"I hit a teammate? Did they pick someone else since I'm laid up? Is Jason okay? I tried to get to him before the Bojinka clacked off the S-vest."

Worried, Lisa clicked the call button. "I think we need to talk to your doctor before I say anything more."

In a confused state, when Lisa refused to tell him anything more or answer his questions, Clay quieted and waited fifteen minutes before the doctor arrived.

"Hello, Mr. Spenser, I'm Dr. Holdings. Do you remember us speaking before?"

Clay shook his head.

"Understandable. You've been on a high dose of narcotics and suffered a concussion. Can you tell me the last thing you do recall?"

"Um, I was clearing a room and Cerb sat at the door. He only sits if there are explosives. Jason was about to open another door … and I lunged at him because well, with Cerb sitting I assume there was a bomb." Clay shifted his gaze to Davis and his tone held a note of pleading, "Lisa, please tell me, is Jason okay?"

Lisa laid a gentle hand on Clay's right shoulder. "Yes. You saved him. He is hale and hearty." She peered at Holdings. "What he described is accurate, it occurred months ago."

"What?" Clay's eyes widened. _Months? How can it be months? How long have I been out? Wait, my arm wouldn't be casted or in a sling if that happened that long ago._ Clay's musing stopped as Holdings responded.

Holdings nodded. "Common symptoms after a concussive TBI are headache, loss of memory, and confusion. The amnesia usually involves forgetting the event that caused the concussion, but it can extend further into the past."

 _Amnesia?_ Clay's gaze bounced between Lisa and the doctor as they spoke.

"Will his memory return?"

"Quite possible, but no way to know for sure. The brain is a complex system. However, it is a positive step forward that he recalled your real name."

Clay interrupted, "How long have I been here?"

"Eight days," Holdings supplied.

Turning to Lisa, Clay inquired, "Can you tell me how I got injured?"

Lisa started to answer, but Holdings cut her off.

"Better if we let nature run its course for the moment. If things don't start coming back after a week or so, then your friends can start filling in the blanks for you." The doctor's pager beeped and Holdings added, "Sorry, I must answer this. I'll check back on you later."

Once they were alone, Lisa asked, "Are you up for visitors? If so, I'll text Jason."

Wanting to verify Jason was indeed alright, Clay nodded. "Yeah." He closed his eyes as his mind began to swirl, struggling to pull out any recent memory. _If the Bojinka op was months ago, what the hell happened? Who the hell is Vic and why would I hit him?_

* * *

**_Bravo Cage_ **

Jason read Lisa's text and he kicked the cage.

"What's Emma done now … date another loser? You need me to make a trip up to New York to put the fear of God into a young man?" Sonny teased. Jason had a call from Emma four days ago and although she was alright, she complained about stupid college boys and their lack of manners.

Vic chuckled at Sonny's comment but winced as his swollen cheek moved. Thoroughly pissed at Spenser for striking him, he would've made a big stink about it, but it was in his best interest to let it drop and pretend to be as concerned as the others for Clay's state of mind. When the incident happened, Clay was clearly in another world, Oz according to Sonny, and guys were more concerned about Clay reinjuring his broken arm, than the black eye he caused.

Jason quelled his anger and turned to face the guys. "Not Emma. Lisa."

That got everyone's attention.

"Dorthy okay?" Sonny asked, all humor evaporating, but using his latest nickname for the kid.

"Yes and no."

"What's wrong?" Ray stepped out of his cage.

"He woke aware, coherent, and in this world today. Called Lisa by her real name."

Vic cringed. He dreaded this day. He planned, and his ducks were in a row, but he still would prefer not to have to deal with Clay's version of events.

"And?" Trent prompted, knowing that wouldn't be the cause for Jason's concerned expression.

"He thinks it is months ago. His last memory is saving me from the S-vest in Belgrade. Actually, he asked if I was alright because all he recalled was Cerb sitting and jumping at me."

"Damn! The kid can't ever catch a break," Metal growled.

No one noticed the smile that briefly showed on Vic's face before he returned to a stoic façade, choosing no emotion over exhibiting false concern—easier to maintain.

"I'm going to visit him, bring him up to speed," Sonny stated as he reached for his backpack. "We're done for today, right?"

"Yes, and yes, we can visit, but the doc said not to tell him anything for at least a week. He wants to see if Clay's memories return on their own."

Sonny nodded, and headed for the door, "Copy. Meet ya there."

When the room cleared, leaving only him and Jason, Ray closed his cage and stood at the entrance of his best friend's locker. "Jace, we need to talk."

"I know."

"When?"

"Later."

"How much later?" Ray pushed for an answer after Jason had avoided all his previous attempts since they returned from Serbia eight days ago.

"When I'm ready." Jason halted shoving his dirty uniform into his pack and turned to face Ray. "I'm aware things don't add up, but until we listen what Clay has to say, we got nothin' to go on. And now, it appears we might never know exactly what happened. That's what's pissing me off. I want to know the truth, and if the kid can't remember … my hands are tied."

Ray nodded. "So, continue to keep a covert eye on Lopez?"

"Yeah." Jason picked up his bag and strode out, slamming his cage. He hated spying on a brother, but as he told Ray, things didn't add up. Though Clay had a temper on occasion, and he wasn't shy about staking his ground, he would never blame someone for a broken bone if said person saved his ass from an RPG. Clay would thank him—though thank yous weren't technically needed between brothers—they all protected one another when the shit hit the fan. Or so, everyone he worked with in the past—Beau Fuller included.

The more he ruminated on why Clay took a dislike to Vic, the more Jason's gut told him the kid must've recognized something they didn't. Even in an altered state, Clay protected himself when Vic got too close, and apparently his mind assigned Vic the role of the Wicked Witch of the West in his warped world of Oz, but Clay changed all the W's to V's—which honestly made them all laugh.

But on a serious note, Jason understood Clay had a lot of experience with two-faced people. Ash Spenser provided Clay an early education on what it was like to be screwed over with a smile and false words. For now, though impatient to discover the truth, Jason must bide his time. He needed solid proof before taking action, but if Vic did lie, there would be severe consequences for breaking rule number one. Trust once broken rarely repaired—and Jason wouldn't risk his brothers' lives with an untrustworthy teammate.

Ray sighed and took out his phone to text Naima to inform her would be swinging by the hospital before coming home, so he'd be late for dinner. She would understand. The past week had been difficult on the entire team—him especially. Ray worried he was the one responsible for bringing a viper into Bravo's house.

The smirk he witnessed in the building in Serbia weighed heavily on his mind. He wondered if he got a glimpse of the real Vic—a cold-blooded serpent who would betray the brotherhood. And he wholeheartedly agreed with Jason's and Metal's opinions that something didn't seem kosher with Vic's explanation—almost as if Vic wanted to paint himself the hero at Clay's expense.

One question he constantly went back to and couldn't answer is, why? What did Vic have to gain? He was already a member of Bravo, and they believed he would make an excellent number two for Clay in the future with the right mentoring—something Ray intended to provide for Vic as Jason did for Clay.

Ray's gaze landed on Clay's cage and the bag they deposited there containing Clay's gear. A proverbial light started to glow and gain strength as a possible answer came to him. _Vic wants more than to be 2IC … he wants to lead Bravo and Clay is his competition._

But his mind went back to Serbia and the hole in the ceiling. Clay's situational awareness was better than most, equal to Jason's, so him falling of his own accord didn't seem right. Something else must've happened. Either Clay was distracted, which tracked with Vic's account of Clay yelling at him, or Clay was pushed. The mere thought that Vic would intentionally harm Clay made his stomach turn, and he wanted desperately to deny that course of events.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, Ray hurried out and headed down the hall, eager to talk to Clay. Perhaps them being with him might spark his memory. He halted as he met Metal in the hall. "Thought you left already."

"I did, but I just remembered something I need to take care of. I'll be there later."

"Okay."

Scott entered Bravo's equipment room and went directly to Clay's cage. He opened the door and picked up the bag with Clay's gear from the last op. As he set it on the table in the middle of the room, he couldn't believe he forgot all about his intentions the night he picked up the piece Trent pulled from Clay's back. God that had been torturous for the kid and ever since things had been a bit of a shitshow, so he forgave himself for not remembering until now.

As he unzipped the black bag, Scott's mind wandered back to the overwatch building. The storm didn't break until mid-morning, which meant they had to stay in the dilapidated building until night descended again. Thankfully, the rescue helo came to their location, so they didn't need to chance lowering Clay with makeshift ropes or jostle him around as they hoofed it to an exfil position. Lisa went back to her logistics roots and ensured the helo brought necessary medical supplies, including a Stokes basket to safely lift Clay to the helo.

During the long, cold day, Clay moved in and out of consciousness, never truly aware, off in some bizarre version of Oz with his ruby boots and Jason as the wizard. The kid talked to Cerb too when he roused a few times, which made Brock smile. Clay and the pup had a strong connection and it was a relief to know wherever Clay's mind was at, he had a steadfast four-legged friend by his side.

Unfortunately, by mid-afternoon, Clay was burning up with fever, so Trent cut off the remainder of the kid's shirt so they could swab Clay's skin to cool him. That's when they discovered the bruising of Clay's left shoulder. The black and purple coloring with a tinge of green told them it didn't occur as a result of falling down the stairs—it was definitely several days old, and the cause pointed to when Vic pushed Clay into the doorjamb.

Vic claimed he didn't push that hard, but Metal recalled Clay wincing when he stood, even though he regrettably laughed at Sonny's jokes about Clay not paying attention. Metal felt like a heel—they were the ones not being attentive. None of them listened to Clay and so easily attributed his complaints about Vic to Clay feeling displaced by a new guy or his desire to find fault with Lopez solely because he was not Yoder—the guy Clay wanted.

Growling, Metal shelved those unproductive thoughts and reached for the shard. He examined the triangular piece coated with Clay's dried blood before setting it on the table. He pulled out Clay's vest, hoping an examination of the back would prove his suspicion.

"Fucking liar!" Metal spat out as his eyes located fragments of the same material deeply embedded in the protective vest. "No way was Clay in front of Vic when the RPG exploded." Metal needed verification and realized he would be later than expected to the hospital, but this took precedence. He put both the vest and shard into the bag, zipped it, and headed out for Blackburn's office.

* * *

**_Hospital_ **

"Hey, Dorthy, I hear you decided to return from Oz. Welcome home." Sonny sauntered into the room carrying a paper sack, not one for bothering to wrap presents—a waste of time and paper in his mind.

Clay chuckled. Sonny never failed to brighten his mood. He often wondered if he should spell Sonny's name with a U instead of O. "Hi. What do you have? I hope some decent food, cause I gotta say, the food here sucks." So did having the nurse's aide feed him since he couldn't use either arm, but he didn't go there. Thankfully, Lisa had to leave before they brought his dinner.

"Nah, sorry, but if they'll let me, I'll order ya a pizza or send Dog Man out to grab you a burger when he arrives." Sonny set the sack on the rolling table. Though he longed to apologize to Clay for being such an ass, since the kid didn't remember, for now, he would behave as if they were all good.

"So, what's in there?" Clay asked.

"Why don't you take a look?" Sonny headed for one of the chairs but halted when Clay spoke.

"Don't be an ass. Open it."

An embarrassed expression crossed Sonny's face for a moment when he realized the kid couldn't open the gift with one arm in a sling and the other casted with little use except for the tips of his fingers. Covering his dumb-ass lapse, Sonny grinned and said, "Just wanted to keep you in suspense a bit longer."

Returning to the bag, Sonny unrolled the top, reached in, and produced a pair of ruby-red slipper boots. "Thought you might like these if you wander off to Oz again … or when walking the hospital halls."

Clay groaned. Sonny laughed. Their brotherly bond, one forged in battle and strengthened with friendship and humor, would endure all their petty squabbles and missteps.

Though the doctor didn't want anyone to tell him anything, Clay hoped he might be able to crack Sonny. "So, Lisa said there's a new guy on the team and I hit him. Did I do any real damage?"

Sonny tensed. "No." He changed the subject, "How about we see if there's a game on?"

"Not interested. Tell me about Vic. I don't recall anyone named Lopez. Did he transfer from another team like Metal? Is he any good?"

As Trent entered with Brock, both overhearing the question, he answered before Sonny could spill any details, "Sorry, no can do. Doctor's orders. You need to give your head time to heal. How's your pain level?"

Vic arrived at the same time as Trent and Brock, but he stood at the threshold as Trent conversed with Clay. He didn't want to be here, but he must maintain his team player façade, and it would be odd if he didn't show up. Glancing around he didn't see Metal and wondered where the intense man was since he left the cages at the same time as them.

After greeting Brock, and everyone chuckling over Sonny's gag gift, Clay noticed an unknown person standing in the doorway. He put two and two together when he spotted the black and purple bruising around the man's eye and along his cheek.

"You must be Vic. Sorry, I don't' remember you. And wow, that looks painful. Sorry for hitting you."

Jason's hand clapped onto Vic's shoulder, pushing him into the room so he could enter too as he smiled at the young man sitting in the bed who his heart claimed as a son. "You don't need to apologize to Vic. He's fine. And you didn't do it on purpose." Jason wanted to add but didn't, _Lopez doesn't deserve an apology—he might be the reason you are injured._

Vic seethed at Jason's comment but held a smile as he said, "No harm, no foul. Accidents happen."

Brock's gut roiled. Vic's _aw-shucks_ veneer wore thin. He couldn't believe he'd ever believed it in the first place, especially when Cerb went out of his way to avoid Vic. Hell, he even recalled Cerb trying to lift a leg on Vic right after the doorjamb incident. Cerberus was an excellent judge of character and took straight away to Clay when he joined. He should've paid more attention to Cerb's aversion because his behavior mirrored Clay's attitude. He hoped Clay would regain his memory soon and they would learn the real sequence of events in that damned building.

Joining the banter, Brock said, "When they release you, I'll bring Cerb over. Tried to sneak him in, but the nurses on this floor caught me and wouldn't buy my story that he's a therapy dog."

Clay grinned. "Thanks for trying." His smile faded as his gaze dropped to his useless arms. "Not gonna be let out anytime soon, I guess. Can't even feed myself."

Trent shook his head. "Talked to Doc Irving a couple of days ago. He said once you were coherent, you can come stay with me. Dawn's stocked up supplies for smoothies, and we got the beer helmet all set for you, so no arms needed to drink."

Sonny interjected, "I plan to stay too, just like after we got you back from Turkmenistan. We got us a routine."

Recalling being kidnapped by Tabasi in Switzerland and taken to Turkmenistan to be tortured for the death of Tabasi's sons, Clay nodded. He'd been dependent on his brothers in the early days of his recovery, and they treated him with dignity and earned his undying trust. Though it would still be embarrassing needing their help for some basic needs, he would prefer staying with Trent to remaining in the hospital.

Flashing a smile, Clay said, "Well, the food's a lot better—Dawn's a fantastic cook. Thanks, guys. Can we go tonight?"

It did Ray's heart good to hear Clay eager to leave and see him smiling, but he said, "Sorry, Kid, not tonight. Tomorrow afternoon at the soonest, since Lindell is requiring us to give a demonstration to some politicos in the morning."

Vic's grin became real as he thought about the opportunity he would have to shine in front of Lindell and some upper brass. Clay wouldn't be there to make a muck of things, and he would be in the spotlight, thus furthering his ambitions.

"Well, one more day here isn't so bad," Clay sighed as he gazed at the slippers. He chuckled. "Though perhaps if I put my ruby boots on and clicked my heels I could get home sooner."

Everyone except Vic laughed.

Trent's heart embraced the kid, warmed by the fact Clay thought of his place as home too. Yeah, he needed to make amends for not being more observant, and taking care of him would be his path forward to possible redemption.

The extensive bruising, they found on Clay's shoulder in Serbia made him feel like crap. If only he had checked Clay after he saved Vic from going over the cliff, the course of the op might've changed because they all would've realized Vic had rammed Clay into the door in practice. And if they had known, Jason sure as hell wouldn't have paired Clay with Vic. Ray would've been sent as their overwatch sniper with Vic. Jace would've kept Clay closer to him or sent him with Sonny to ensure the shoulder didn't put the kid at risk.

Hell, none of them could even be mad at Clay for keeping quiet about the injury, 'cause quite frankly, they understood why he didn't say anything. They had all ignored his warnings about Vic—and their ignorance almost cost the kid's life. Nothing for any of them to be proud of.

Although he didn't like Clay having amnesia, perhaps there was a silver lining. His true brothers would have an opportunity to make amends and if Clay did recall things, perhaps he would be inclined to forgive them for their utter stupidity in discounting his concerns regarding the new guy.

The team bantered and BS'd until Clay's eyelids began to droop. Trent ensured Clay got a dose of pain meds before he left with everyone except Jason. Their leader had not spent a single night in his own bed since returning, preferring to sleep in the recliner in Clay's room.

About thirty minutes later, when Clay lifted his lashes, not realizing they drifted shut, he found his room quiet and Jason sitting in the chair with a blanket draped over his chest and his feet up. Clay sighed and closed his eyes with a sense of comfort. The man who became like a father to him was on guard and his family would help him recover as they had each time in the past—he was never alone, even if they had to spin up. If his memories didn't come back, it didn't matter—he had what mattered most … family.

* * *

**_Bravo Team Room_ **

Blackburn tore his gaze off the wall clock which read 23:38 as the door opened, admitting Davis and Ellis. "Thank you for coming in so late. Please take a seat."

Lisa moved for a chair as her gaze shifted to Full Metal, whose scowl would scare most children.

Mandy took a seat as she asked, "Is there a critical op?"

Eric met Metal's eyes before going to Mandy's. "No. What I'm about to disclose must not be communicated to any of Bravo for the time being. The boys are doing a live-fire demo tomorrow and I don't want them distracted by this ugly business until we have solid proof."

"Might just have me an accident tomorrow," Metal growled, causing Blackburn to give him a stern glare.

"Which is why you won't be participating. Do I have your word, nothing I share goes to any member of Bravo until we gather evidence to support Metal's theory?"

"More than a theory." Given another glare, Metal huffed. "Alright, I'll keep my thoughts to myself for now."

"I agree," Lisa said, wondering what lay under cloth near Blackburn.

"Secrets are second nature to me, so yes, you have my word," Mandy stated.

Eric inhaled as he lifted the fabric, revealing two tactical vests. "Metal brought these to me earlier tonight." He lifted the three-inch triangle. "And this too. Trent removed this from Clay's back." Lifting one vest so Lisa and Mandy could view, he said, "You will notice the multitude of embedded material in Clay's vest. We had someone from the lab do a composite test, and the material is identical.

"The pieces had to be moving at a high velocity to become embedded in both. A twelve-foot fall is not sufficient to drive this piece," Eric moved his hand with the part that had punctured Clay, "into the kid's back. There is no such material in Vic's vest. Therefore, Metal believes Clay was behind Vic when the RPG exploded not in front. And if Vic lied—"

Lisa cut in, her fists clenching, "Then he could've lied about the rest. He might've tried to kill Clay and is covering it up." Anger surged. "Why didn't the guys believe Clay when he brought up concerns over Vic?"

"I don't have an answer for why, but it is a jump to conclude he attempted to kill Spenser. More likely something else happened and he sought to pad his resume with his version," Mandy chimed in.

Surging to his feet, Metal shouted, "Pad his resume? The bastard fucking lied. He is scum, and I won't believe another word out of that bastard's mouth. I got a shovel and some lye in my truck, and I'm ready to use it."

"Metal, sit down," Eric said in an exacerbated tone, though a part of him wished to participate in hiding a body if they could prove Lopez deliberately hurt Clay. "We need proof, and I figured who better to find something than the two best investigators I've ever worked with." Eric's eyes moved from Mandy to Lisa. "Are you willing to help?"

"Absolutely!" Lisa stood to take a closer look at Clay's protective vest.

Mandy nodded, her mind already noodling on something that bothered her about the op. She rose, and said, "I'm in. I may not be in touch for a few days. There's something I need to check, but I don't want to say anything until it proves out."

"Thanks. I knew I could count on you." His eyes turned to Metal. "So Jason doesn't start twenty questions, I'm loaning you out to Green Team for the next few days since three instructors are out with the flu. It will give you ample time to make some discrete, and I mean discrete inquiries into Lopez's past. Feed anything you find to Lisa for her to validate."

Metal grumbled under his breath but nodded.

"As I said, this is ugly, and I want due diligence done so Lindell can't reject what we discover. He's had it out for Jason, and Bravo in general, and if we have a bad seed, we need to prove it to weed him out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you didn't see that twist coming. Evil muse laughing.


	8. I Don't Feel So Well

**_Trent's Home_ **

"So, Dorthy, do you want to wear jeans or sweats?" Sonny stood at the closet but faced Clay who sat on the bed in his boxers and socks after showering.

Not in the mood to be going out, especially to the base, Clay didn't answer Sonny as he groused, "Why do I have to go anyway?"

"Well, see, here's the thing, you're in the Navy and when a commanding officer requests your presence, you hafta make an appearance." Sonny selected the sweats because they would be easier for Clay to handle if he had to use the bathroom while they were out.

"But I still don't remember anything about the mission. Of what value am I at an after-action meeting if I can't contribute a damned thing."

Sonny crouched in front of Clay and slipped the pants over his sock-covered feet before pulling them to Clay's knees. He peered up at Clay's eyes, in two minds. One he sorta wished-hoped, Clay never recalled how much of an ass he had been to him, yet at the same time wanted-hoped, to learn exactly how Clay had been injured.

Today's meeting according to Blackburn was to walk through the mission in a familiar environment and give Clay an opportunity to ask questions. "We're hoping that reviewing some of the details will spark a memory. Doc said wait a week and we did, time for your brain cells to come back from Oz too. Stand."

Clay stood and allowed Sonny to yank the elastic waist over his hips. He hated being dependent on his brothers for everything from going to the bathroom to eating and dressing but appreciated the no-nonsense help.

"Not too tight on your wound back there, is it?"

"No. It's fine." Clay sat again.

"Blue or black shirt?"

"Don't care," Clay grumbled, letting Sonny choose and submitting himself to his brother's ministrations as he dressed him—a process he couldn't do for himself. His sour mood mostly caused by a week of struggling to recall a single shred of his last mission only to come up blank. Other bits and pieces of his life had come back. He recalled the death of Ambassador Marsden—a true loss for the world. The real shocker, he had a new girlfriend and Stella had left him for a second time.

He talked to Rebecca once via the phone, but he couldn't remember her very well—only that she gave him some expensive shoes. He wondered why he ever hooked up with her, because who gives a guy you meet at a funeral, shoes? Might've been a Stella rebound thing—rebounds never lasted.

Rebecca also seemed peeved that he didn't call her last week, and after he explained why he couldn't, she went off on a monolog of how he could use his TBI to exit the military and parlay it into running for office. When he told her that he had no aspirations of going into politics at this point in his life, she made excuses why she couldn't come to visit him. Not that he minded since he was not invested in a relationship he didn't truly remember.

His choices in women were not so grand. Stella was wishy-washy and couldn't handle being a SEALs girlfriend, much less a wife. And Rebecca, well she apparently didn't want a SEAL, she wanted him to be something different—perhaps her sending him shoes should've been his first clue.

On the other side of the coin, Trent's girlfriend was awesome. Clay wished one day he would find someone like Dawn or Naima. But so far, his choice of women had been off the mark. Perhaps it was time to put that part of his life on hold and focus more on his career. And perhaps go carousing with Sonny at the Champagne room again.

Though he didn't recollect much about Vic, other than a few snippets from the ambassador's mission, he got the sense he didn't like him. Something about the man rubbed him the wrong way. He was glad Vic didn't bother to come over the past couple of evenings when the other guys stopped by to check on him.

Clay's thoughts ceased as he groaned.

"Sorry." Sonny eased Clay's arm down after pulling on the sleeve of the button-down shirt. Though it didn't go well with sweats, the dress shirts were easier to put on Clay with both arms hurt because they opened in the front and he could slip them on with minimal movement of Clay's left arm. A t-shirt would be impossible to put on.

"You could tell Blackburn I don't feel so well. Maybe he would reschedule."

"Nice try, Ken Doll. I know you're in chronic pain but that won't fly. Gotta suck it up and go. Trent will give you your pain meds early if you want."

"No. Wish I could ditch the slings so I don't look like such a wuss."

"Two breaks in one arm with one held together with pins, and rotator cuff surgery on the other doesn't make you a wuss. It's only been two weeks. You'll be wearing those for at least two if not four more weeks."

Sonny buttoned Clay's shirt and grinned as he picked up one of the slings. "My little brother is almost ready for his first day back at school. If any of the schoolyard meanies tease you about your slings, Big Brother Sonny will beat them up for you," Sonny joked.

"Watch it or I'll smash you with my cast." Clay's words held no heat as he cracked a smile. Sunny had that effect on him.

"Well, on second thought, you won't need me to fight your battles. Just don't bust any skulls or blacken too many eyes with that lethal weapon."

Dawn ambled into the room. "Oh darn, you already put his shirt on. I brought you something that I think will be more comfortable." Dawn giggled as she viewed Clay's outfit. "And go much better with sweats."

"What?" Sonny turned to Dawn.

"Well, Trent told me about the post shoulder surgery t-shirts and I looked them up. They were really expensive, like thirty bucks apiece. So, I went to the store and bought a couple of inexpensive t-shirts one size larger than you wear and made the modifications to both sides."

Dawn held up a blue cotton t-shirt with zippers across both shoulders and down the outer sleeve, and from the inner sleeve down both sides. "Just slip this over your head, and then zip up. No painful lifting or movement of either arm."

Sonny surprised both Dawn and Clay as he spontaneously hugged Dawn. He stepped back and said, "You're a keeper. If Trent don't marry you, I will."

Dawn blushed and handed the five shirts in varying colors to Sonny. "They're washed and ready to wear."

"Thanks, Dawn. I really appreciate it." Clay glanced down at his outfit and though not a vain man, he did look a bit ridiculous in the way he was dressed. He didn't really want to go out in public in the first place, and going like this would be worse. "Sonny, I want to wear one of those. The black one."

"Thought you might pick the red one to go with your ruby boots, Dorthy." Sonny selected the black one.

"If Dawn would make some of these with Velcro, you could start a new career as Chippendale dancer 'cause you won't make it as a comedian," Clay retorted.

Sonny puffed up and preened, "This body would be awesome—women would flock to my shows."

Dawn pivoted, giggling as the two over-grown boys bantered like blood brothers.

* * *

**_Bravo Cages_ **

Vic finished cleaning the mud off of everyone's boots. He was sick of the new guy stick—he earned the right to be here just like the rest of them and he was not their houseboy nor their beer supplier. His pocketbook took a huge hit with all the beer he had to buy in the last week of hell.

He wasn't the one to move Brock out of his quadrant when they were doing the live-fire demo—the stupid dog-handler did that all on his own. "It isn't like I grazed Brock on purpose. It. Wasn't. My. Fault," Vic growled as he threw Brock's boots at the cage.

Wincing as he bumped his sore hand, Vic continued his monolog to the empty room. "The damned dog should be put down. I can't believe everyone turned a blind eye to the mutt biting me when I went to find out if Brock was okay. Not even Lindell or Blackburn put a stop to Hayes chewing my ass out in front of the senator and his aide."

Vic went to pick up the boots, sure if he didn't complete the tasks as assigned, he would be doing crap jobs for another week. As it was, everything, including scrubbing the heads, was put on him. And Hayes had him running hills yesterday until he puked. He was tempted to call in sick today, tell them he caught a bug and did not feel well, but that would probably result in more hours rerunning the scenario with a wooden rifle.

That was an insult of the highest order when Hayes said that until he proved he was not a danger to teammates he wouldn't be allowed to touch a real gun or go on missions with them.

He kept his mouth shut and played the remorseful teammate, though he was not to blame for Brock's stupid error. Vic expected this to blow over and once he endured this unjust punishment, he would be back to running with the team and his plans would resume. There was one big thing in his favor—Spenser still didn't remember a damned thing about the Serbia mission.

Ray pushed open the door and found Vic. "Team room in ten minutes."

"We catch a spin?" Vic asked with a bit of eagerness.

"No." Ray went to his cage to grab his notebook without telling Vic the reason. Vic didn't question him further because they had all been curt and cold to him in the last week. Fortunately, their eyes had fully opened to what Clay had been telling them about Vic during the live-fire drill. Unfortunately, it took Brock getting shot.

Thankfully, it was a minor through and through in the fleshy part of his arm. Big Chief and Blackburn were up on the catwalk, and later confirmed Vic most definitely fired outside his quadrant although the new guy insisted Brock moved out of his.

After being hit, Brock almost came unglued when Vic tried to kick Cerb as the hair missile stood guard over his wounded partner. None of them admonished Cerb for taking a nip at Vic—the good boy did as trained, he protected his packmate from a threat. And the bite was minor, barely breaking the skin on Vic's hand, which showed Cerb's restraint.

Though he hated keeping secrets, no one told Clay about the incident. He agreed with Jason that they didn't want to color Clay's opinion of Vic before today's meeting. Neither believed it would change Clay's narrative if he recalled mission details, but they wanted nothing Vic could point to as an excuse if Clay did and it didn't match Vic's version.

Sadly, it took them all too long to see through Vic's _'poor me, I just want to be a team player'_ façade. The man was ambitious and now Ray highly-suspected he would do anything to rise in the ranks. His old self, the Ray he no longer wanted to be, probably would've recognized the viper much earlier. But his kinder, gentler version tended to give people the benefit of the doubt, turn the other cheek, and give them a long lead as he recognized most people had many struggles to overcome.

All well and good, but only if it didn't put his teammates, his brothers at risk. And quite frankly, the incident with Brock, Cerb, and shoving Clay into the doorjamb were two examples where Lopez fell short of looking out for brothers and owning up to his mistakes.

Notebook in hand, Ray shut his cage, strode to the door, and threw a curt, "Don't be late," over his shoulder as he exited the room.

Vic seethed as he put the now clean boots of the others in front of their cages before he put the supplies away because if he didn't, Hayes or Full Metal would ride his ass. He halted at Clay's and spied the stuffed seal sitting on a shelf. _He doesn't have any kids. Why does a full-grown man keep a child's toy?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two sections were supposed to be part of the last chapter, but I'm still working on the final scene and epilogue, so I decided to split the chapter. Enjoy.


	9. Is Something Burning?

**_DEVGRU Hallway_ **

Clay had grimaced and hissed when he bumped his arm while getting out of Trent's car after Sonny unbuckled his seatbelt. Not having the use of at least one arm totally sucked. And although he complained about wearing two slings, the one for his casted arm actually took the strain caused by the weight of it off his right shoulder and neck muscles.

Spotting a group of sweaty, dusty operators laughing and jostling one another as they approached from the opposite direction, Clay slowed his already snail's pace, worried someone might bump into him and cause more pain. With a bit of embarrassment and a lot of gratitude, Clay continued when both Trent and Sonny stepped in front of him, creating a protective barrier.

Alpha Team parted, lining the walls as Derek caught sight of Clay and ordered his men to make a hole.

Clay nodded thanks to Derek as he passed through them. Almost to the end of the group, Clay halted when he found an unexpected familiar face. "Yoder?"

"Spense, man, good to see you up and around. Heard you took a hard hit in Serbia," Yoder said as he remained stationary, so there was no possibility of knocking into his injured friend. It had to suck having two broken wings. Being hard-hitting doorkickers, none of them liked being on the injured reserve.

"Yeah." Clay noticed the 6A9 patch on his old teammate's sleeve, and confusion lit his features. "You got drafted to Alpha? When did that happen?"

Yoder blinked. Derek told them Clay got his bell rung but didn't realize it had been so hard that Clay didn't recall things. He decided to use humor and a little deflection because he knew Clay, and not remembering something would eat at him. He chuckled, "Man, if you don't recall, we must've gotten a little too hammered on sake bombs the night we celebrated Alpha drafting me."

Clay smiled, not because he recalled that particular party, but remembering the times he and Yoder hit the bars with Brian while in Team Three. "You like working with Derek?"

"Hell yeah, a great guy. I'm happy on Alpha but would've enjoyed being on your team. C'est la vie'. Anyway, we'll get to work together again since Alpha and Bravo team up often." When his team headed off, Yoder said, "Gotta be running, if the door closes, I'll owe them another case of beer. I'm going broke as it is with all the firsts. Take care, bro. If you need anything, just give me a holler."

Yoder trotted off to catch up. He still couldn't believe Hayes drafted Lopez, or hell, Lopez even got past Big Chief and graduated. None of his Green Team cohorts liked the guy—something about his manner seemed fake and untrustworthy. He wondered if Clay's injury, like Brock's, had anything to do with Lopez. Unfortunately, the details of how Clay got injured had been withheld from them. Yoder ran, just barely making it into their equipment room without the door closing—saving his bank account a few dollars.

As they continued down a hall, Clay wondered what made Lopez a better fit for Bravo than Yoder. He would've thought Jason would pick Yoder—his buddy from his previous team checked all the boxes. It would've been fun working with him again—they made an incredible team. Clay pushed those thoughts aside, recognizing Jason must've seen something in Lopez that the team needed and made the selection according to Bravo's needs.

* * *

**_Bravo Team Room_ **

Clay entered as Sonny held the door for him. He noted Jason, Brock, and Metal all at the table and Lisa standing with Mandy in the kitchenette area. Ray, the new guy, and Blackburn were not here yet, so he breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't caused him, Sonny, and Trent to be late when he had to use the restroom before leaving Trent's place. No way in hell did he want to be peeing in the bathroom here, especially needing help to lower his pants.

He took his customary seat but noticed Trent held it, so it didn't roll as he sat. "Thanks."

"Brought your meds. You need relief or a break, you tell me. Wish you'd taken them before we left." Trent shifted into a seat beside Clay as Sonny took the one on the opposite side.

"Wanted a clear head. Those make me a bit muddled." Clay glanced up to his right as a water bottle with an extra-long straw appeared in front of him.

"Thought this would be better if you get thirsty. No need to ask anyone to hold the bottle for you." Lisa smiled.

"Thanks."

Lisa nodded and returned to the back of the room, surprised she could maintain a placid demeanor. Inside, she was raging and wanted this meeting to start. Hell, she wanted it three days ago but reluctantly agreed with Blackburn they should wait the week the doctor wanted to see if Clay recalled anything.

Ray entered and grinned at Clay. "Five minutes early … as usual."

Clay chuckled. "On time in my book."

The guys chuckled, recalling Clay's very first mission briefing where the kid quoted Adam's on-time mantra.

Cerb wandered over to Clay and gently nudged his knee. "Sorry, can't pet you, boy. Would if I could."

"Cerberus understands. He's just sayin' hi." Brock kept his sore arm still, resting his hand in his lap. Cerb did comprehend Clay was injured, just like him. Since being shot by Vic, Cerb had been quite attentive to him and even fetched his shoes this morning as he prepared to come to the base. Cerberus certainly earned the treats everyone fed him a few nights ago when they grilled burgers at Trent's home.

"At ease, stay seated," Lindell said as he entered before Blackburn. "Everyone here?"

"Not quite," Eric said, noting Lopez's seat empty.

Everyone, except for Eric, Lisa, Mandy, and Metal, all wondered why Lindell joined them for a mostly standard debrief. Though they chalked it up to the scrutiny they were under by the captain. The guys aware of the shoot house incident believed this might be another opportunity to ding the entire team, but they remained quiet since making any statements wouldn't help them one damned bit.

Lindell leaned his hip against one of the desks near the front and took a moment to assess Spenser visually. He was impressed with the SEAL and pleased he survived. He wondered if the TBI would be a factor in Spenser's decision to go STA-21. Though an excellent operator, Spenser could make more waves, positive changes, if he went the seaman to admiral route.

Though, for now, he wouldn't press Spenser for an answer since he needed time to heal and be cleared by the doctors for active duty. And quite frankly, Spenser might not recall his offer to recommend him for STA-21. If Spenser didn't receive the green light to return to operating with Bravo due to the head trauma, Lindell didn't want to add to what would be a momentous knock to the young man.

* * *

**_Bravo Cages_ **

Many thoughts went through Vic's mind as he stared at the stupid toy in Spenser's cage. Part of him wanted to pick the lock, grab the seal, dump it into the trash and set it on fire. With a smile on his face, Vic stood there daydreaming about the fluff going up in flames and the reaction Spenser might have to it missing.

Rationality returned, realizing setting it on fire here would set off the smoke alarms, and people would seek out whatever was burning. He wondered if he had time to at least snatch it for now and burn it later. He glanced at his watch and his gut seized when he noted ten minutes had passed since Ray left.

"Shit, I'm gonna be late, and it's all Spenser's fault."

* * *

**_Bravo Team Room_ **

Five minutes after arriving, Lindell turned to Blackburn. "Send someone to get Lopez. I don't have all day."

Ripping open the door, Vic rushed in but came to a halt when he spotted Lindell and Blackburn. "Um, sorry for being late … had to finish my task." He moved to sit in the only open seat at the rear of the table, wishing he was not flanked by Metal and Brock.

Vic avoided Metal as much as possible, not comfortable with his angry scowl. Plus, being near Brock meant the damned dog would be close. He breathed a sigh of relief when he spied Cerb resting his head on Clay's knee—although a spike of jealousy ran through him, wondering why the dog hated him but cozied up to Spenser.

Metal sniffed the air several times and leaned closer to Lopez as he did so. "Is something burning? I smell something charred."

Vic unconsciously moved his chair back a couple of inches due to the intense hatred flashing in Metal's eyes. Disconcerted, and worried the man could read minds, Vic mumbled, "Might be the cleaner I used on the boots."

When Blackburn Eric cleared his throat, a signal not to get ahead of their plan, Full Metal returned his gaze to the front, but it didn't stop his thoughts. _Yeah, something's definitely burning today. I'm gonna let Vic build his own funeral pyre with his lies. Then I'm gonna set him ablaze with the light of truth. The asshole will roast alive as he should. Though, I wish it was a couple of hundred years ago, so we could tar and feather him, hang him from the yardarm by his balls, and make a bonfire below him._

Blackburn eyed Metal a moment. _The guy can be scary when he wants, and I believe at least half the stories about him and hidden bodies might actually be true. Damned glad he's one of the good guys._ Having gained Metal's attention, Eric said, "Ensign Davis, Ms. Ellis, if you will join us, we're ready to begin."

Mandy moved to the front and picked up the clicker for the presentation while Lisa stood off to the side, prepared to provide her details once Mandy finished.

Eric peered at Clay. "We are going to redo the mission brief in the hopes it will spark your memory. Jason will then give us an accounting of the mission. If at any time you have questions or believe you might recall something, please interrupt, and we can verify if it meets with known facts."

Nodding, Clay gave his full attention to the monitor, which displayed overhead photos of a complex and an image of a man named Vuk Ristovski. He listened as Mandy ran down the mission objectives for the snatch and grab of the Serbian arms dealer.

His attention shifted to Lisa when she took over. He was glad Blackburn recommended her to be their primary intelligence officer—Lisa and Mandy made quite a team.

Lisa finished her portion but added, "Although we had ISR overhead, the heavy storm clouds prevented HAVOC from being your eyes in the sky shortly after you began your patrol to the target."

Eric turned to Clay. "Feel free to ask any questions you would've in a normal briefing, it might help jog something."

Clay nodded, his mind chewing on several details. "Mandy, you said Ristovski recently relocated his operation to an abandoned mining town."

"Yes."

"Did he store his weapons cache onsite?"

"No, although the activity in the days leading up to confirming his presence indicated he was prepping the site. The building he chose is the only one with electricity, likely provided by generators, and he only kept a small contingent of his guards with him, which is why the op was rushed to green light. Fewer men meant less risk.

"Though a backup force stayed only a few miles away in a small village, which also played a role in the decision for your infil location that required you to take a long hike over the mountain."

Clay asked a few more questions, proving to his superiors and teammates he still possessed a sharp mind. Jason again kicked himself for the harsh words he hurled at Clay in the cage. If he hadn't been blind, these questions would've come out in the first briefing session and might've changed the outcome.

When Spenser remained quiet for a few moments, Eric asked, "Any memories?"

"Nothing. Were we successful?"

Mandy smiled. "Yes. And Ristovski's network is coming down. Several follow-on missions have netted more people in his command structure, and we demolished one of his stash houses."

Eric got them back on track as he said, "Jason, walk us through the mission up to the point you sent Clay and Vic to overwatch."

Pleased Jason had chosen him to protect the team Clay glanced at the new guy before focusing on Jason. Clay wondered if he encountered tangos while doing so. When he initially posed the question to Mandy, he hoped she had said yes to the weapons because it would explain his concussion and broken arm if something exploded.

Listening to Jason state the facts, things sounded pretty routine to Clay for a patrolling infil. That is until Jason said, "As we trekked along the narrow path, Vic stepped into a hole, twisted his ankle and if not for Clay's fast reaction grabbing Vic's vest, and Metal grabbing Clay's vest, both Clay and Vic would've fallen two-hundred feet."

Clay whipped his eyes to Metal. "Thanks."

Metal shook his head. "Not necessary, and you already thanked me."

Turning his gaze to Trent, Clay asked, "Is that when my rotator cuff tore?"

Trent's remorse kicked up. "I don't think so, but it was probably a contributing factor. I didn't check you because you told Metal you were fine."

"Then I was fine. I wouldn't lie about something that could affect the mission. Learned my lesson long ago about hiding even minor injuries."

"But you did. You didn't tell them about your bruised shoulder," Vic blurted out before he realized he put his foot in his mouth. Now they would tell Spenser about the doorjamb.

"What bruised shoulder?"

Trent sighed before he said, "You sparred with Vic, and when Lindell, who was watching made a comment, we all looked up, but Vic didn't halt, and your left shoulder slammed into the door's frame. I didn't check you then either. I'm sorry."

"Must not have been bad, or I would've told you."

Jason's pensive gaze centered on Clay. _Or maybe you didn't because you thought we wouldn't believe you._ Leaving his rumination hanging, he continued, "After we arrived at the outskirts of the town, I decided to call an audible and changed up teams. With Vic's bum ankle, I sent him with you so he could rest it before we exfil'd. Once you attained your sniper location and provided me the all-clear, we executed.

"We cleared the target building and rousted Ristovski out of his bed right before you communicated incoming tangos from the south in technical vehicles. Sonny and Metal shwacked some tangos inside as you opened fire on those approaching. You said you and Vic would head for the secondary exfil after providing us cover to reach the trees to the north. That's the last we heard from either of you until we came across Vic on the way back to find you when you didn't show up."

Pausing to allow Clay to process the details, Jason studied the kid's face hoping to denote a spark of recognition. Sadly, he found none. "Any questions so far?"

"Wasn't I with Vic?"

"No," Sonny said, barely containing his anger.

"So, something happened to me between the time I radioed, and you found Vic?"

Jason nodded. "Yes. But I'll let Vic tell you what occurred."

Vic swallowed hard. He thought Jason would provide all the details. He interlaced his fingers to quell the slight shake that would broadcast his nervousness with Lindell and Blackburn in the room. Focusing on Spenser, he let his hatred of the blond, who, based on recent comments from his teammates, was still held in high regard even after he painted Clay in a cowardly light.

Using his bravado, Vic spoke in a clear, level tone, "After you reported to Bravo One, we alternated taking shots to keep the tangos focused on us. When you ducked down to change mag, I spotted one tango starting to aim an RPG towards our pos.

"I yelled RPG as I grabbed your vest and yanked you to your feet, pushing you in front of me. With my sprained ankle, I didn't know if I could run fast enough, and I didn't want to be the reason you didn't reach the protection of the stairwell. We scarcely made it inside, when the concussive blast knocked me into you and sent us down the steps."

Affecting a disheartened expression, Vic sighed and turned to Jason. "Do I have to be the one to tell him what occurred next?"

Before anyone could step in and stop Vic's recounting, since the words must be heard by all, especially Lindell, Metal said, "You were the one there, best if it comes from you."

Ignoring Metal, a man he also couldn't stand, Vic waited until Jason gave him a slight nod. Refocusing on Clay, ready to secretly enjoy disparaging Spenser's character, he continued, "When we came to a stop on the fourth-floor landing, I stood and offered you a hand up. You reached your right hand up and I grasped it. You screamed in pain, and I released your hand, wondering what the hell happened. You got to your feet and started yelling at me for breaking your arm.

"Then the stairs started to screech and I back peddled to the door and urged you to come with me. I told you earlier the rusted stairs were unstable. My feet just hit solid ground when the structure gave way. I managed to grab your left hand as you started to fall. I think that's when your rotator tendons tore because you again scream in pain and shouted for me to pull you up because you couldn't hold on."

Vic lowered his eyes a moment for effect and sighed. "Thankfully, I do pull-ups every morning and with brute strength, I pulled you up. You were still pissed and laid into me as you backed up. It was dark and my night vision had been knocked askew, so I didn't see the hole in the floor. You were right in front of me one moment, then gone the next.

"I had to find something to get down to you without breaking my ankle because I discovered my radio was missing and couldn't call for help. Took me a while, but eventually, I jerry-rigged something that made the drop feasible. You were unconscious and I didn't dare move you. I tried your comms, but it appeared to be missing too. Found your antenna with busted wires.

"Wanted to go for help right away, but the tangos were milling about and gathering their dead. Though I hated leaving you alone, you were secure on the third floor because the stairs had fully collapsed and apparently they thought the RPG killed us since we stopped firing. Once the last tango drove off, I found a length of rope, and scaled the building's exterior, dropping fifteen feet when the line snapped."

Brock scrunched his eyes as he noticed the distance of Vic's drop increased with each telling. First six, then twelve, and now fifteen. He was certain Lopez was lying, but Brock would let him continue, for now, so he would hang himself. However, once Lopez finished, Brock intended to call out a few things that just didn't track with Clay's modus operandi during missions or his personality in general.

"I landed hard on my ankle, but still managed a good clip. As Jason indicated, they met me while I was trying to make it to the secondary exfil, knowing they would return when we didn't communicate with them and didn't show." Vic halted, assuming Jason would tell Clay about the rescue portion.

Clay rolled over what Vic said in his mind, and he didn't have any memory he could use to dispute him, but it didn't jibe with him that he would accuse Vic of breaking his arm if the guy saved him from an RPG. He'd be thanking him, and understood a fall could cause injuries—it wouldn't be Vic's fault. Nor would he rant at Vic after saving him a second time from certain death. But with no proof, Clay remained silent.

Metal pinned his gaze on Lopez. "So, you were behind Clay when the RPG blew?"

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"Yep, that's what you said. I just have one question." Metal stood and moved to a desk with a box on it.

"Okay."

"Why are you lying?"

"I'm not!" Vic bit out.

"You are."

"Why would I lie?"

"Don't know, why would you?"

"I'm telling you the truth. I have no reason to lie."

Lifting two tactical vests, displaying the backs of both to the room before moving to Vic and laying both down on the table in front of him, Metal said, "You are a fucking liar, and this proves it. This one is Clay's. The one filled with shrapnel, and this one is yours … pristine." He reached into his pocket and held up the triangular piece. "And this is what Trent dug out of Clay's back. It is the same material as the stuff embedded in his vest. How do you explain that?"

Vic scrambled for an explanation, never realizing something so simple might be his downfall. His mind picked a reason out of thin air. "Simple. That must've been on the floor and been embedded when Clay fell twelve feet. There was a lot of miscellaneous debris. Remember Trent picking some out of his knees after treating Clay?"

Metal shook his head. "Nice try, asswipe, but if you knew as much as you think you know, you'd be aware these particles would need to be moving at high velocity to be embedded so deeply."

Sonny pulled Clay's vest closer to him, his eyes widening at the smoking gun. His brows lowered and the toothpick in his mouth snapped in his clenched teeth, as rage surged through him. Sonny pinned Vic with glowering eyes, and after spitting out the thin pieces of mangled wood, Sonny ground out, "If you lied about the RPG, what else are you lying about? Cause, I'm here to tell you, I know Bamm Bamm better than anyone on this team, and what you described is as far from the truth of depicting his behavior as we are from Pluto."

Clay noted everyone except Vic nodded at Sonny's statement. The fact Metal discovered the truth and Sonny defended him, further strengthened Clay's trust in his brothers. But it also confused him. _Why would Lopez lie about something like that? It doesn't make any sense._

"I didn't lie. I have no reason to lie. You could've switched the vests to make me look bad for some unknown reason. Did you jump on the Spenser hate Lopez bandwagon and are now trying to blame shit on me too?" Vic proclaimed with vigor.

Clay scrunched his brows. _Spenser bandwagon? Yeah, I get a general bad vibe off Lopez, but I don't pass judgment on people without evidence. What did I see or call him out on? Well, lying might be something I spotted—learned how to spot a two-faced, selfish liar from Ash._

Trent reached for Clay's vest and declared, "This belongs to the kid … no switching."

"How can you tell? They're all the same," Vic bit out.

"Nope." Trent stabbed a finger at the rusty brown coloring. "You weren't bleeding, Clay was … quite a lot from the shrapnel in his back."

"Then I don't know, maybe, I wasn't right behind him, and some of the shrapnel hit him and not me," Vic stammered out.

"Possible but not probable," Jason stated. He now wished there was some way to prove or disprove the rest of Vic's story. Metal's discovery cast an ugly light on Vic. Although he now believed things went down quite different than Vic said, without definitive proof, they couldn't burn the guy.

Vic surged to his feet. "Captain, are you going to allow this witch hunt? I'm the new guy, so right, I'm the one lying. Their precious blond kid couldn't possibly behave like an ass?"

Lindell arched a brow but remained quiet. He was unsure what to expect when Blackburn requested his presence in recreating the briefing and after-action review for Spenser today—but it certainly was not this.

Finding no help from the captain, Vic narrowed his gaze on Jason. "Remember all the crap Spenser spewed about me and the way you told him to quit acting like a spoiled child because you picked me instead of Yoder? You gave him one last warning before the mission that if he didn't stop, he'd be the one looking for a new team, not me. If Spenser didn't have amnesia, I'm sure he'd be twisting what happened so he could burn me at the stake."

Jason blanched and his eyes shifted to Clay. He didn't want that to come out like this. He would have to work hard to repair the damage, and hope Clay forgave him for being an utter ass.

Clay blinked and turned to peer at Jason, but before he could form a question, Mandy spoke.

"Excuse me, but I have something everyone needs to see." Gaining their attention, Mandy focused on Lindell. "Sir, after Full Metal brought the vest to Lieutenant Commander Blackburn, Ensign Davis, and myself a week ago, it jogged a memory. Something Sonny said to me when he handed over the phones and laptop, they gathered from the target building.

"He wondered how the tangos arrived so soon after they entered the building. I flew to Gitmo for a conversation with Ristovski. My hunch he was prepping the site to become a storage location for his weapons panned out. And well, after a little friendly persuasion, ensuring his wife and children remain safe, he admitted he planned to use the four-story building to store them. As such, he had already installed hidden cameras there and in the main building he occupied, and ensured someone monitored them twenty-four seven.

"When Clay and Vic entered the stairwell, the sensors alerted his men in the small village and that is how they arrived so soon. Fortunately, Ristovski is a control freak, and he had software on his phone that captured video from each camera when the motion detectors activated. Lisa, would you please play the footage?"

Having helped Mandy view hours upon hours of video to find something to corroborate Metal's theory on the RPG, Lisa stumbled across the true smoking gun. She clicked play, and a grainy black and white video began to play on the monitor. Though the figures were indistinguishable, the movement painted an entirely different chain of events and would surely be the torch to light the tinder Vic gathered and stood on to make him seem greater than he was. As far as Lisa was concerned, Lopez built his own pyre and would burn.

When the clip of the stairwell ended, the men of Bravo sat in shocked silence for a moment before Sonny lunged out of his seat for Lopez as he shouted, "Fucking coward!"

Metal, Brock, and Ray pulled Sonny back as Jason rose, his expression full of fury and directed at Lopez. "You left him. You didn't bother to help him up. You ran like a coward to save your ass after Clay risked his life three times to save yours." Jason raked both hands through his hair and squeeze the back of his neck to prevent himself from wrapping them around Lopez's throat.

Lindell stood and took control before this turned into a blood bath. "This is ugly. In all my time in the Navy, I've never … this is … well, ugly." He turned to Blackburn aware the SEALs had an internal code and he preferred to allow them to work through the issue. "I leave this in your hands and will approve whatever path you and your team deem appropriate. You may handle this internally, request a Captain's Mast, or turn the material over to JAG for a formal investigation and possible court-martial."

Turning to Ellis, he added, "Excellent work, Ms. Ellis."

"Team effort, Sir. Couldn't have found this without the help of Blackburn, Davis, and Full Metal."

Pivoting to Clay, Lindell said, "I hope the betrayal of one doesn't color your perception of the others. From what I've heard and witnessed today, the Navy needs more men of your caliber." Before he strode out of the room, his gaze raked over Lopez, disgusted by the sailor's dishonesty and cowardly actions.

Once the door closed, Brock turned flaming eyes on Lopez. "Did you push Clay through the hole?"

"What?" Vic's hands shook and he clasped them as his eyes rounded. "No."

"How can we believe a word out of your mouth?" Trent asked, barely banking his rage, though he wanted to repeatedly slam his fist into Lopez's repulsive face. Clay's screams as he dug the shrapnel out of his back still played in his nightly dreams.

"I didn't. He didn't see it and fell, honest." Dread increased as Vic worried he might be facing charges for attempted murder.

Lisa said, "Sorry, no video in either the third or fourth-floor rooms to prove what truly transpired in them."

"I'm telling you … I didn't push him. Yeah, I panicked on the stairs, but I'm not a murderer."

"OUT. GET OUT!" Jason ordered, needing Lopez gone from his sight before he lost his shit. Not only enraged at Vic but himself for not listening to Clay in the first place.

"Standby outside," Blackburn added. He waited until Lopez exited before he addressed Jason. "As with Lindell, I'll leave this to the team to sort out. Davis, Ellis, please come with me."

Once Bravo was alone in the room all eyes turned to Clay who had not moved or spoken, each one concerned what the revelations would do to the kid.

"Clay," Jason began, but Clay cut him off.

"Don't. Give me a minute. Please."

"Sure. Whatever you need." Jason paced, giving Clay time to process everything and the others also remained quiet, honoring his request.

Clay's head spun as he grappled with the information, trying to validate any of it with a scrap of memory. But viewing the video felt like watching a movie—he still had no recollection. If something so shocking didn't jump-start his memories, he didn't think anything would.

His mind shifted to the things Vic said about Jason telling him he would keep Vic instead of him. The new guy was exposed as a liar and a coward, so how much weight could he give those words? Peering directly at Jason, Clay asked, "Did you actually tell me I would be looking for a new team?"

Jason sighed and sank into his chair. "Yes, but … hell no buts. Yes, I did. I was dead wrong and blind. Your instincts about Lopez have been proved out, and I should've listened to you. I'm sorry I didn't. You wouldn't have been injured, and Vic wouldn't have shot Brock if—"

"What?! When?" Clay's eyes whipped to Brock.

"Easy, brother. Only a flesh wound. I'm okay, and I'm also sorry for being unobservant. Cerb didn't like Vic and that should've alerted me." Brock leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, and gave Clay a brief accounting of the live-fire demo and how Vic insisted it wasn't his fault. He concluded with, "Remember all the hamburger Cerb got a couple of nights ago?"

Clay nodded.

"Treats for biting Vic," Sonny supplied. "Think new guys will need to pass the hair missile test in the future. But back to the issue. Lindell and Blackburn gave us carte blanche to deal with Lopez, so what are we gonna do?"

"I believe it should be Clay's decision. He is the one harmed by Vic's lies," Ray softly said, rocked to the core and ashamed he was the one who talked Jason into inviting a true viper into their family, and that nearly killed Clay and Brock.

Clay shook his head. "No. Ray, it could've easily been you up there with Vic as me, or any of you in his line of fire as it was Brock."

Taking another moment to organize his thoughts, Clay peered at each of his brothers as several figments of his weird dreams came back to him. "I went on a journey with three true friends. In the end, each one left me with a few words of wisdom. I'm going to act on those now."

Focusing on Jason, Clay said, "I've been with you guys for several years, and you've always had my back. We bicker, argue, fight, disagree, say things we don't mean, but when we're up against it, when it matters most, I trust each of you with my life, and I know you trust me with yours. We might not share blood, but I think our bond is stronger than blood."

Jason only nodded, not wanting to interrupt Clay's train of thought. But he accepted the kid's words as truth. Yes, Bravo was a damned fine team before Clay came along, but he unified them in a way no one ever had.

Shifting to Ray, Clay asked, "Your faith teaches forgiveness, right?"

"Yes."

Clay continued, "Forgiving one's self for things that are out of our control is as important as forgiving our transgressors. It frees our hearts."

"I ain't forgiving, the Vicked Vitch of the Vest. That's for damned sure," Sonny interjected as his eyes landed on Clay's vest again and finding the name apropos.

"Not my point. What I'm trying to say, is whatever our differences before the last mission, whatever drove them, whatever heated words were exchanged, I don't want that weighing us down moving forward. This past week, each one of you has shown me you are a true brother in many ways. So, if any part of what Vic said about you not believing me is true, I forgive you."

Trent interrupted, "Forgiving doesn't mean the one who erred is free from accountability."

Clay nodded. "Agree, but it must be a team decision, not mine alone. Lopez stabbed at the core of our values. He betrayed the brotherhood with his cowardice and lies and that … comes with a steep price."

"Never in all my years have I ever taken a Trident," Jason met Clay's eyes, "but that is what I believe should happen here. I don't trust him outside the wire with any of you."

"I'm the one who brought him in, this is my fault," Ray said.

"No. My team, my decision, I own this," Jason countered.

"Don't agree," Metal spoke up. "We all own a part in not seeing who Lopez is. Though I do have to say, he's a consummate liar … kinda like my ex-wife number two."

"Why did he lie?" Brock asked.

"Doesn't matter. All in favor of striping his trident?" Trent said as he raised a hand.

Sonny's and Metal's arms shot straight up. Cerb put a paw on the table, and Brock patted Cerb as he lifted his uninjured one. Ray hesitated a moment as he thought about Vic's hard upbringing and wondered if it played a role in his need to make himself look better at the expense of someone else, but his hand rose too.

Jason peered at Clay, waiting for him to vote before he did, wanting to support him in his choice. "Well, kid, are you going to vote?"

"Um, would if I could lift either hand." Despite the grim, life-altering nature of the vote, Clay cracked a smile as he said, "You all need to work on your observation skills, they're kinda lacking lately."

The guys groaned as they all realized with both arms in slings, Clay couldn't.

Clay took a deep breath and exhaled, wishing he'd listened to Trent about taking the meds. Once this foul business was done, he'd ask for them. Meeting Jason's gaze, Clay said, "I vote yes."

"Unanimous. Metal, bring Lopez in."

Vic entered, his stomach in knots, but he had gloomed onto a possible way to salvage things. He stood at attention at the rear of the table and waited for someone to speak. He couldn't tell what they thought, their expressions all stoic.

Jason maintained a hard glare on Lopez for several minutes. Like Brock, he too would like to know why Vic lied. He figured he probably wouldn't get the truth, but whatever Vic responded would provide him food for thought when he spoke with Blackburn to determine if Vic could be charged with any crimes. "Why did you lie?"

The question fed right into Vic's hastily cobbled strategy. He allowed his hang-dog expression to show as he shifted his gaze from Jason to Ray before answering. "You know my backstory."

"We all do, you yammered on and on about your sob-story on the plane," Sonny interrupted, derision dripping with each syllable.

Vic suppressed his anger. "Yeah, I guess I did. It's just I never felt like I was accepted for who I am until I joined Bravo. You became my brothers, the family I always wanted. When I panicked and left Clay on the landing," he turned his eyes to Spenser, "I'm very sorry about that."

He refocused on Ray not happy he apologized, even if it was fake. "I'm not proud of my action, but I figured if anyone found out, you would kick me off the team. But I didn't push him, he fell. I did what I could to bring help to him as fast as possible given my injured ankle. If I wanted him to die, I had ample opportunity to make that happen."

The last statement caused Ray's stomach to clench. Clay had been incapacitated and Vic could've killed him by simply throwing him down the stairwell or out the window and claimed the kid fell to his death. If it had been the window, they might never have known because Lisa said no video existed of the rooms. Although a true statement, one amongst many lies, Ray let the thought Vic could've murdered Clay move to the back burner.

Ray stood and walked towards Vic. "So instead of owning up to your actions, you decided to tell your brothers, your family, a pack of lies that painted a brother in a bad light. You disparaged the man who risked his life three times to save yours. You thought it would be a good idea to steal Spenser's valor and claim it as your own."

"N-no, it's not like that?"

"Well, from where I sit, that's exactly what it is," Sonny interjected.

Ray continued, "You are not the only man to join a team with a troubled past, but you're the first one I ever met who betrayed the brotherhood in this manner."

"I'm sorry. Please forgive me." Vic's lip trembled as he fought to maintain his composure as his plans started crumbing.

"We forgive you," Ray added.

Shocked and relieved, Vic smiled. "It won't happen again. I promise."

Jason approached from the opposite side as he said, "You're right, it won't happen again."

Vic blinked as Ray handed Jason a pocket knife and said, "Although we've forgiven you, we don't trust you. By unanimous decision, you are off Bravo and out of DEVGRU."

Opening the knife, Jason stepped in front of Vic and met his eyes. "What you did is irredeemable and you don't deserve to wear this honor." Jason's gaze shifted to the SEAL insignia, slipped the tip between the fabric and patch, cutting the threads.

Lopez's eyes teared up as his fists clenched. He couldn't believe this outcome. All because Spenser wanted Yoder instead of him.

When finished, Jason stepped back, closed the knife, and handed it back to Ray.

Ray reached to Lopez's arm and pulled off the Velcro backed Bravo Seven designator patch as a tear trickled down Vic's cheek.

Turning to Metal, Jason said, "Escort him to security, and stay with him while I inform Blackburn of our decision."

Scott stood, and peered at the weak man in front of him, not moved one bit by the poor-me tears. "Let's go."

Once the six were alone, Clay softly said, "Trent."

Trent turned to Clay. "Yeah?"

"You were right, should've taken the meds earlier. Could really use those pills you brought." Clay let the stoic façade he'd been holding drop, allowing his pain to show through.

"You got it, Kid." Trent reached for his pocket to retrieve the painkillers.

Sonny stood and said, "We're taking you home. And you're riding in style."

Clay took a sip of water to wash down the pills Trent popped into his mouth as he pondered what Sonny meant. Trent's car was better for getting in and out of than Sonny's truck.

Gripping the back of Clay's rolling chair, Sonny grinned. "Buckle up, Buckaroo, it's gonna be a bumpy ride."

"Sonny, you know, that doesn't make Clay feel any better," Brock rose. "He needs a smooth ride."

"Hush up, Dog-boy, I like you better when you don't talk."

Clay met Trent's eyes and they both rolled them as Sonny prattled on about something, both recognizing it to be a way Sonny coped when he was unsettled. Today's revelations that a brother truly and thoroughly broke their trust would mean a long night.

Launching himself into the banter, Clay said, "You know you got the quote wrong. It is … fasten your seatbelts; it's going to be a bumpy night."

When only Jason and Ray stood in the room as Sonny pushed Clay's chair, and made some inane comment, Jason placed a hand on Ray's shoulder. "Don't second guess yourself. Vic presented a false version of himself to the world for years. One he couldn't maintain at this level."

Ray nodded. "Hard to forgive myself for bringing in the man who almost cost Clay and Brock their lives, but I will try."

"We all make errors. Let's go speak with Blackburn then grab a case of beer before heading over to Trent's. Think we all could use a little time together … and be there for Clay if he has more questions." Jason laid the Trident on the table and pivoted.

Ray nodded and set the Bravo Seven patch next to the other and followed Jason. "We should also grab some pizza on our way over."

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

**_EPILOGUE: Eight Weeks Later – Shoot House_ **

Clay grinned and high fived Sonny with both hands, as they concluded the live fire and hostage rescue drill. Bravo executed everything smooth as silk, impressing the senators who came back for the rescheduled tour and demonstration.

Scanning his team, Jason happily sighed. It had been a bumpy two months working through Vic's betrayal, helping Clay rehab, and rebuilding bent-not-broken trust with Clay, but they got through it—and came out the outside a stronger team. Clay still had not regained all his memories or at least claimed he didn't recall them treating him badly.

But the kid was on fire physically—he rebounded fast working with the new physiotherapist Lindell brought in. Thankfully, beyond a few missing memories, Clay had no issues with his cognition and was cleared to rejoin them last week.

Vic got what he deserved, dishonorably discharged, and stricken from the SEALs brotherhood. Vic was PNG and his name became synonymous with someone acting cowardly and playing the victim card, as in don't be a Vic. Although Clay spoke to Lindell and asked that Vic not to face criminal charges since Lopez had to wear his dishonor and cowardice for the rest of his life and that would be enough.

Jason smiled and bumped fists with Ray as he declared, "We're back!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So concludes my playtime. I had fun and appreciate all the energizing comments. I hope you enjoyed the story.
> 
> It's time to put my full focus on writing WOUNDED HONOR, the 3rd book in the Strike Force Zulu series, and TREASURES: Vows, Vengeance, Valor the 12th in the Beauty of Life series. If you like my writing, check out my website that lists all my published novels and sneak peeks of upcoming ones. lauraactonauthor.com


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